A New History Of The English Stage Vol.ii

A mW HISTORY OF THE
MOLISH STAGE

FROM TEE BESTOBATION TO TEE IIBEBT7 OF
TEE TSEATBES,

IN CONNECTION WITH THE PATENT HOUSES,

JFrom Original Papers in the Zo7 d Chm)berlam*s Ojgice^ the State Paper Office, and othea sources

By PERCY FITZGERALD, M.A., F.S.A.,

AXJTHOE OP “the UPE OP GEORGE THE POTJETH,” “THE EIPE OP GARRICK,**

ETC ETC,

LOKDON

TINSLEY BROTHERS, 8, CATHERINE STREET, STRAND, W.C.

1882.

miBLSS DZCESKS AlTD STilTS,
0B7BTi.l4 PiXA€S PBSSS*

OOITTENTS

iht (QontmueS)

Pbom the Cibbee-Wilks Management to that op Gtaeriok,

1710-1747

OHAPTEE I.

PAGE

DISOEDEES * . . . 1

OHAPTEE II.

THE BEGGAE^S OPEEA . ♦ . . . , , 24

OHAPTEE III

LEADING ACTRESSES — OLDFIELD AND PORTER 35

OHAPTEE IT,

CLOSE OP THE CIBBER, BOOTH, AND ¥ILKS MANAGEMENT 52

OHAPTEE Y

COVENT GARDEN THEATRE ... , . 65

OHAPTEE YD

HIGHMORE AS MANAGER ... , 72

OHAPTEE YII.

FLEETWOOD . ... * , 91

OHAPTEE YIII

THE LICENSING ACT, 1737 . ^7

OHAPTEE IS

MAOSLIN AND QUIN . . . 108

CHAPTER X.

GARRICK S RISE

122

VI

CONTENTS

Jlemb the Jf^itrth

Fbom Gahrigk’s Management to his Eetirembnt, 1747-1776
CHAPTER r

GARRICK AS MANAGER . .143

CHAPTER II.

CHURCHILL AND ^'THE ROSCIAD” 173

CHAPTER III

SCENES BEHIND THE SCENES ... ... 182

CHAPTER IV.

FOOTE AND THE MIMICS . . . 204

CHAPTER y

‘^DOUGLAS” . . . . . 214

CHAPTER VI

THE LITTLE THEATRE IN TEE HATMABKET . . , 228

CHAPTER VIL

GOLDSMITH . 248

CHAPTER VIII

COLMAN AND THE EAT3IABKET , . , , 273

CHAPTER IX

GARRICK AND HfS ACTRESSES ... , . 283

CHAPTER X

THE GARRICK SCHOOL . . ... 291

CHAPTER XI

RIBBONS. » . r . * , . ... . 303

oommuB vii

ike Jfxfih.

Peom Gabriok’s Eetibement to the Days op Huge Theatres

CHAPTER I

PAGE

SHERIDAN, MANAGER . , . . . 315

CHAPTER 11

THE REBUILDING OP DRURY LANE THEATRE

322

THE DRAMATISTS

CHAPTER III

. 348

DECAY AND DISORDER

CHAPTER lY

. 357

|3moi the ,§ixth.

From the Opening op Great Theatres to the
Liberty op the Theatres.”

CHAPTER I

iiaB

THE BURNING OF THE THEATRES . . . 371

CHAPTER II

NEW DRURY LANE THEATRE — ^KEAN . , . 383

CHAPTER III

RISE OF THE MINOR THEATRES

398

CHAPTER lY.

THE FALL OF ELLISTON . 411

CHAPTER Y.

SHIPWRECK OF THE PATENT HOUSES

418

OONTEOTS.

Till

APPENDIX A «
APPENDIX B .

APPENDIX C
INDEX .

, 43a

. 44a
. 447
. 44a

Petiol the ^hirb.

(Continued )

FROM THE OIBBEE-WILKS MA.NAGBMENT TO THA.T OF
GARRICK, 1710-1747

VIU

oomEmB

APPENDIX A .
APPENDIX B .

APPENDIX C

INDEX .

pi&xr

. 43a
. 44a
. 447
. 449

^erioft the ‘lihirb.

C007ltl7iwd )

FBOM THE OIBBEB-WILKS MANAGEMENT TO TEAT OF
GABEIOK, 1710-1747

A NEW HISTORY OF THE
ENGLISH STAGE.

CHAPTER I

BISOBDEES,

The idea of self-importance wliicli the actor exhibited during
this period is shown by the following adyertisement issued by
one of reputation, and belonging to the old seV^ namely,
Boheme. At the bottom of the bill for Apiil 27th, 1728, he
announced • Whereas I am informed that there is a report
about the town that the managers of Drury Lane have lately
endeavoured to seduce me from Lincoln^s Inn Fields, I think
myself obliged, in justice to the said managers, to declare that
the said report is entirely false ; and do hereby acknowledge
that I first made overtures to be received into their company,
for reasons at that time to myself best known, and further
that it was never proposed by either of the said managers or
myself that I should quit Lincoln^s Inn Fields without six
months^ warning given to supply my part, and a discharge in
writmg from the managers of Lmcoln^s Inn Fields/^

B

2

A NEW HISTOET OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

A tide of violence seemed destined to pursue actors In
MarcL, 1735, an extraoidinary incident befell Ryan. Towards
midnight, after the play was over, he was going through
Queen Street, and was crossing, when he heard a person
dogging him closely A villain immediately clapped a pistol
to his mouth and fiied, it was believed to be only charged
with powder Ryan exclaimed Friend, you have killed
me, but I forgive you^^ — a very noble speech, and showing
what his first thought was He was taken to a surgeon^s, and
it was found that his teeth had been shot away and his jaw-
bone shattered To a good actor this was rum, and in an
address to the pubhc it was stated that it was uncertain that
he would ever appear again For his benefit a large audience
assembled, and the Prince of Wales sent him a ^^gold ticket
of ten guineas He was eventually so far cured as to be able
to resume his profession, but though there was always a
whistling sound in his voice that gave a sort of grotesqueness,
he was so sound and judicious an actor that he always com-
manded an audience and held an excellent position.*

Ryan had an affray with some watermen, the result of which
IS thus naively reported His voice was originally a sharp
shrill treble, but he received a blow on the nose which turned
that feature a little out of its place, though not so much as to
occasion any deformity, made an alteration in his voice also
by no means to its advantage, yet still it continued not
disgusting

* Davies declares that this defect did not exist, and that his elocution was
excellent , but from Wilkinson’s Mimicry, and the recorded jest in which he
was bidden to make his son as good an actor as himself by getting him shot
through the mouth, it seems most probable But he retained a dreadful
scar It m curious how we can find links of a cham that will join us to a very
remote period A short time since I talked with an old gentleman who knew
intimately Jack Taylor of the “ Sun ” Taylor had talked with Tom Davies,
Johnson’s friend, who described to him Eyan recounting his meeting with
Betterton

DISOEDEES

3

Ryan had en]oyed a kind o£ prescriptave clam to all
the loTers m tragedy and fine gentlemen in comedy^ at the
theaties in Lincoln^ s Inn Fields and Oovent Grarden^ for nearly
thirty years.

In a conyersation which I had with him some years
before his death (says Davies)^ he told me that he began
the trade of acting when he was a boy of about sixteen or
seventeen years of age , and that one of his first parts, which
was suddenly put into his hands in the absence of a more
experienced player^ was Seyton, an old officer in Macbeth,’*
when Betterton acted the principal character As Betterton
had not seen Ryan before he came on the stage, he was snr-
piised at the sight of a hoy m a large full-bottomed wig, such
as our ]ndges now wear on the Bench However, by his looks
he encouraged him to go on with what he had to say; and
when the scene was over he commended the actor, but reproved
old Downes, the prompter, for sending a child to him instead
of a man advanced in years The fiist dawn of his good
fortune was the distinction paid him by Mr Addison, who
selected him from the tribe of young actors to play the part of
Marcus in Oato The author and his friend Steele invited
him to a tavern some time before the play was acted, and
instructed him in his part. The old gentleman felt an honest
pleasure in recollecting that early mark of favour bestowed on
him by men of such eminence. In his person Ryan was
something above the middle size , in his action and deport-
ment rather easy than graceful , he was often awkward in the
management of his head, by raising his chin and stretching
out his neck; his voice was very powerful, but harsh and
dissonant

Some time after, a man who lay dying m an hospital,
being wounded in a stieet scuffle, sent to beg Mr. Eyan
would come to him, which the actor did The fellow* con-
fessed that he was the man who had fired at him, and begged
his forgiveness.

4

A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

We Lave seen tLat in Clare Market and its neigkbonr-
liood were taverns frequented by the actors, where many
drinking brawls and fatal souffles had taken place. As we
pass thi'ough these uncleanly slums, we see some of the old
houses still lemammg, and there is now standing close to
Portugal Street a much-begrimed old tavern known as The
Black Jackj which was frequented by players in the days of
William the Third and Anne Near it is another old house of
call, that pro]ects over the street, supported on columns It
IS not difficult to fancy this place the scene of such incidents
as are described m a roystering ballad of the day, written by
a player, and in which he pictures the jolly life of the player .

Mr. John Leigh (says Ohetwood) I think was born in
Ii eland. He commenced actoi, however, on the Irish theatre
He was a person of some education, with a particular amiable
form, and genteel address, in so much that he gained the
appellative of Handsome Leigh A good figure was the
chief advantage in the paits he perfoimed. He was called
from this kingdom to fill up the troop of comedians raised to
garrison the New Theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, in the year
1714, at its first opening, where he set forth the first night in
Captain Plume, in The Recruiting Officer,^'’ which occasioned
the following lines wrote on the back of one of their bills

^Tis right to raise recruits, for faith, they’re wanted.
For not one acting soldier^s here, ’tis granted

Mr. Leigh, I believe, might have been in the good graces
of the fair sex, if his taste had led him that way. He has
wrote several humorous songs Here follows a sample, which,
as it is a theatrical anecdote, will require a little illustration
by way of notes.

BISOEDERS

5

To the Tune of Thomas ^ I cannot

My scandalous neighbours of Portugal Street
Come listen a while to my ditty ,
ni sing you a song, tho^ my voice be not sweety
And that you will say is a pity
As meiry a sonnet as times can afford.

Of Egleton,* Walker, Jack Hall,t and my lord,

[Mr Ohetwood here interrupts his ballad
to furnish commentaries ]

If you doubt of the truth, to confii m every word,
ril call for a witness — Will Thomas — Will Thomas, J
1^11 call for a witness — Will Thomas *

II

First Egleton coaxM the fool over the way
With sentences sweeter than honey,

A toad in a hole was their dinner that day.

And my noodle he lent them his money
What tho^ I have got by him many a crown,

What I ne^er can foigive him is, that he came down
Five guineas the night ere he went out of town
Is this tiue, or no ^ O yes * says Will Thomas !

0 yes, etc.

* Mr Egleton, commonly called Baron Egleton, for taking that title upon
him m France, where he squandered away a small patrimony His person was
perfectly genteel, and a yery pleasing actor, but through, a wild road of life
he finished hxs journey in the twenty ninth year of his age

+ Mr John Hall, a sharer m old Smock Alley Theatre, above thirty years
ago He went from hence with Mi Leigh to the Hew Theatre in Lincoln’s Inn
Fields He was something too corpulent, and a thickness of speech that might
be mimicked with ease, which adds some humour to this ballad. He under-
stood music, and was once a dancmg master, and the original Lockit m “ The
Beggar^s Opera ”

% A waiter at a coffee-house m Portugal Street, over against the stage-door ,
a person m understanding pretty near on a par with my lord.

6

A HEW HISTOBY OF THE IHGLISH STAGE.

III.

Tom Walker, Bis creditors meaning to ckouse.

Like an konest good-natured young fellow ,

Eesolyed all tke summer to stay m the house,

And rehearse loj himself Massianello.ee
As soon as he heard of the Barones success,*

He stript off his night-gown and put on his dress.

And cryed d n my b d ^ I will strike for no less ;

So he calFd o’er the hatch f for Will Thomas* Will
Thomas *

So he calFd, etc.

17 .

Go tell my young lord, says this modest young man,
I beg heed invite me to dinner ;
ni be as diveiting as ever I can,

I will by the faith of a sinner *

I mimic all actors, the worst, and the best,
ril sing him a song, ril crack him a jest,

Fll make him act better than Henley the priest,
ni tell him so, sir, says Will Thomas, Will Thomas,
Fll teU him so, etc.

T.

Jack Hall, who was then just awakened from sleep,

Said (turning about to Grace Moffet) J
^Twou^d vex any dog to see pudding thus creep.

And not have a share of the profit
If you have not, says Grace, you^re not Mr Hall *

And if I have not, it shall cost me a fall,

For half a loafs better than no bread at all,

And so Fll call out for Will Thomas, Will Thomas,

And so, etc.

* Mr Egleton received tlie five guineas from the lord
f Tlie hatcli of the stage-door The houiids of those theatrical princes that
HJight receive four pounds a week, and by their mdt^try make shift to spend
SIX— a great virtue in some theatrical gentry

J Grace Mofiet, daughter to Mr Hairs second wife, that kept The Bell and
Drasfon m Portugal Street

DISOEDEBS,

?

VI.

Go tell my young lord^ I can teach tim to dance,
AltBo^ Tm no very great talker,

Fll show him good manners ]ust landed from France,
That^s more than hell learn from Tom Walker!

I sing, and I act, I dance, and I fence ,

I am a rare ]ndge of — good eating — and sense;

And then, as for English, I understand French.

Ill tell him so, sir, says Will Thomas, Will Thomas,
111 tell him so, etc.

VII.

The peer was just going his purse-strings to draw,

In order to lend them his money,

As soon as his forward good nature I saw,

I cried out, My lord, fie upon you ^

To us you^re as hard as a Tmk or a Jew,

If you part with your money, pay where it^^is due ;

Poor Betty’s * with child, and it may be by you.

Here’s fun for us all * cried Will Thomas, Will Thomas,
Here^s fun, etc.

VTII.

When his lordship heard this, away down he ran,

And drove away straight to The Devil,t
Will Thomas sneak’d over to The Green Man,{

Thus our customers use us uncivil.

Poor Betty’s misfortune is pity’d by all.

Who expects eVry moment in pieces to fall,

Tho^ she swears ’tis my lord’s ’twas got by Jack Hall,
Tho’ she swears, etc.

Notwithstanding its pantomimes, Lincoln’s Inn Fields

* Befcty, maid to the coffee woman, that could serve the peer and the porter,
t The DeTil Tayern, Temple Bar.
j A brandj-shop over the way.

8

A mW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

Theatre did not flourish. The disordeily neighbourhood
seemed to affect its stage. We hear constantly of scenes ot
confusion on the stage In 1720 theie is a notice to this
effect that owing to the noting and disturbances by the
audiencGj liberty of the scenes being abused, no one was to be
admitted but by half -guinea tickets at the stage- door. And
in July it IS announced that the company is dissolved, and the
house seized in execution for debt. They appear to have
got over their difficulties, for in October of the following
year we find a fresh disturbance at Lincoln^s Inn Fields
playhouse, several persons assaulting the sentinels and throw-
ing dirt at them. Nor is it a surprise to learn that ^^on
December 22nd, Ogden, the comedian of Lmcoln^s Inn Fields,
IS double-ironed in Newgate for treason, each player of the
new house allowing him half a day^s pay per week.”^^ Again,
on Wednesday night, February 1st, Mr. Berkeley, Mr. Corn-
wallis, Mr Fielding, and another made a disturbance by
assaultmg the actors upon the stage, and were carried to
the Eoundhouse, and afterwards before Justice Hungerford.
The theatre was closed the following nights, "the company
thmkmg it fit to desist from playing till proper care be
taken to prevent the like disorders for the future. N.B. —
The persons who occasioned the late disorders are under
prosecution.”

That excellent actor, Eyan, who was beginning to make an
impression under the patronage of his countryman Qum, was
also the innocent occasion of the death of a companion. A less
fatal adventure, but which nearly shipwrecked his professional
prosperity, was later to befall him. He took great delight m
walkmg, and by persevering in that exercise preserved his
health to a good old age. At length, in the sixty-eighth year
of a life, fifty years of which he had spent in the service and
entertainment of the public, he paid the general debt of

DISORDEES-

9

nature at Batli, to wMcIl place lie liad retued for tlie benefit
of bis bealtbj tb© 15tb of August, 1765.

After bis trouble, Steele, wbo had grown old, withdrew
from the town Victor, a well-known man about the theatres,
gives in a few words a pleasing little sketch of him He
retired, be says, to Hereford. am told be retained his
cheerful sweetness of temper to tb© last, and would often be
carried out m a summer’s evening where the country lads and
lasses were assembled at tbeir rural sports, and with his pencil
give an order on bis agent (a mercer, wbo was receiver of the
rents of an encumbered estate be bad with bis wife) for a new
gown to the best dancer.’^

When the play of The Coronation’^ was first performed,
in 1723, at Drury Lane, a very serious catastrophe bad almost
occurred A great ciowd bad assembled, wheu ^^an alarm of
fire was raised, fiom ignorance or malice, which threw the
audience into a dreadful consternation for about half an hour
A few days later appeared a reassuring explanation of the
means ready at the theatre for extinguishing a conflagration
Captain Shaw of our day might have written it. It is the
proper business of several persons, with several inspectors oyer
them, to fire and light all the lamps in and about the playhouse,
in large candlesticks and broad stands made of tin, in so safe a
manner that should any candle swail, and fall out of its socket,
no danger could attend it Large cisterns of water above
stairs and below, and hand engines are always ready, and
the carpenters, scene men, and servants are employed m such
numbers dm mg the whole time of representation, and disposed
in order, evexy light in the whole theatre is in view of some of
the servants ”

Later we shall see what honest friendly interest King
George the Third took m the stage. His predecessor was, to
a certain extent, a patron of the drama, and Frederick Reynolds

VOL n

0

10

A HEW* HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

entertained at Chiselliurst, about tbe beginning of tbe century,
an old gentleman and bis wife wbo bad been at tbe Court of
George tbe Second. He gave bim a curious sketch of a royal
visit to tbe playhouse about this time

His Majesty arriving at tbe theatre some few minutes after
bis time, tbe aibitrary audience (wbo will rarely allow even a
regal actor to keep tbe stage business waiting) received him
with some veiy hasty lude marks of their disapprobation Tbe
King, taken by surprise, for a moment expressed both chagiin
and embariassment, but, with a prompt recollection, be skil-
fully conveited all tbeir anger into applause. He drew forth
bis watch, and having pointed to the hand, and shown it to tbe
lord in waiting, be advanced to tbe front of the box, and
directing tbe attention of the audience to bis proceedings, be
deliberately beat tbe misleading timekeeper against tbe box —
thus proving be was a great actor, and deserving of tbe full
bouses be always bi ought

Tbe play commenced and concluded with its usual success ,*
and no other unusual circumstance occurred until tbe middle
of tbe after-piece, where a centaur was inti oduced, wbo having
to draw a bow, and therewith shoot a formidable adversary,
through some confusion, erring in bis aim, tbe airow entered
the royal box and grazed tbe person of tbe King Tbe audience
rose m indignation against tbe perpetrator of this atrocious
attempt, and seemed preparing to revenge tbe outrage, when
at that moment tbe whole jbre pait of the centaur fell on its
face among tbe lamps, in consequence of tbe carpenter, wbo
played tbe postm lor, rushing from bis concealment with tbe
most trembling humility in order to assure His Majesty, and
all present, that be was no party in this treasonahle transaction

At these words rose and advanced tbe z/ head and front
of tbe offence, and, likewise endeavouring to exculpate him-
self, energetically addressed the audience Tbe noisy discussion
and tbe ridiculous criminations and vmdications which ensued
between these two grotesque, half -dressed, half-^human beings,
so amply rewarded George tbe Second and tbe spectators
for tbe previous alarm, that loud and involuntary shouts of
laughter from every part of tbe bouse acknowledged that tbe

DISOEDEES

11

centaur^s head, ayid tail were incomparaHy the most amasmg
pei formers of tEe evening.

At tEis time other disasters occurred.

In the year 1721, Mr EicE (says Mr Victor) obtained leave
for a party of the Guards to do duty at his house like the other,
and that gave it the name of the Theatre Royal The accident
of obtaining the Guards to do duty at his theatre in Lincoln^s
Inn Fields, in 1721, was occasioned by a riot then committed
there by a drunken set of young men of quality, which shut up
that theatre for seven or eight days A certain noble earl,
who was said (and with some degree of certainty, as he drank
usquebaugh constantly at his waking) to have been in a state
of drunkenness for six years, was behind the scenes at the close
of a comedy (‘^ The Beggar^s Opera and seeing one of his
companions on the other side, he crossed over the stage among
the performers, and was accordingly hissed by the audience.
I was standing by Mr Rich on the side the noble lord came
over to, and on the uproar in the house at such an irregularity,
the manager said ^^I hope youi loidship will not take it ill if
I give orders to the stage-door keeper not to admit you any
more^^ On his saying that, my loid saluted Mr Rich with a
slap on the face, which he immediately returned; and his
lordship^s face being round and fat, made his cheek nng
with the foice of it. Upon this spirited return, my lord^s
drunken companions collected themselves duectly, and Mr.
Rich was to be put to death; but Quin, Ryan, Walker, etc,
stood forth in defence of the manager, and a grand scuffle
ensned, by which the gentlemen were all drove out at the
stage-door into the street They then sallied into the
boxes with their swords drawn, and broke the sconces, cut the
hangings (which were gilt leather finely painted), and continued
the not there till Mr Qum came round with a constable and
watchmen, and charged them every one into custody. They
were carried before Justice Hnngerford, who tlien lived in that
neighbouihood, and all bound over to answer the consequences,
hut they were soon persuaded by their wiser friends to make
up this matter, and the manager got ample redress The King,
being informed of the whole affair, was highly oSended, and

12

A NEW HISTOET OF THE ENOLISH STAGE.

ordered a guard to attend tliat tlieatre as well as tlie otter,
wticli IS continued to this day.

Tte ttree managers, towever, had used all their exertions
to bring about a reform, both behind the curtain and in the
audiences. ^^From the visible errois of former managements/^
says one of them, ^ Ve had at last found the necessary means to
bring our private laws and orders into the general observance
and approbation of our society. Diligence and neglect were
under an equal eye the one never failed its reward, and the
other, by being very rarely excused, was less frequently com-
mitted. You are now to consider us in our height of favour,
and so much in fashion with the politer part of the town, that
our house every Saturday seemed to be the appointed assembly
of the first ladies of quality Of this too the common spectators
were so well apprised, that for twenty years successively on that
day we scarce ever failed of a crowded audience, for which
occasion we particularly reserved our best plays, acted in the
best manner we could give them. Among our many necessary
reformations, what a little preserved to us the regard of our
auditors was the decency of our clear stage, from whence we
had now for many years shut out those idle gentlemen who
seemed more delighted to be pretty objects themselves than
capable of any pleasure from the play, who took their daily
stands where they might best elbow the actor and come in for
their share of the auditors^ attention. In many a laboured scene
of the warmest humour and of the most affecting passion, have
I seen the best actors disconcerted while these buzzing
musquitos have been fluttering round their eyes and ears”

Yet we find the performances still disgraced by violent inter-
ruptions and scuffles, which did not augur well for the pros-
perity of the house. When a comedy, in 1718, called ‘^The
Modish Citizen,” was bemg played at Lincoln^s Inn Fields,
a gentleman pointed at a young gentlewoman in one of the

DISOBDEBS

13

side boxes^ on whicli another gentleman, one of her acquaint-
ances, went over and challenged him. They drew and made
passes at one another, which threw the whole house into an
uproar. They were parted, and neither was killed.

A giaver specimen, however^ of these savage box: mannei’s
shows how difficult it was for the managers, with even the
best intentions, to pieserve order

About the year 1717, a young actress, of a desirable
person, sitting in an upper box at the opera, a military gentle-
man thought this a proper opportunity to secure a little
conversation with her ; but notwithstanding the fine things
he said to her, she rather chose to give the music the prefer-
ence of her attention. This indifference was so offensive to
his high heart, that he proceeded at last to treat her in a style
too grossly insulting Upon which, being beaten too far out
of her discretion, she turned hastily upon him, with an angry
look, and a reply which seemed to set his merit in so low a
regard that he thought himself obliged, in honour, to take his
time to resent it This was the full extent of her crime, which
his glory delayed no longer to punish, than till the next time
she was to appeal upon the stage There, in one of her best
parts, wherein she drew a favourable regard and approbation
from the audience, he, dispensing with the respect which some
people think due to a polite assembly, began to inteiTupt her
performance with such loud and various notes of mockery
as other young men of honour in the same place have some-
times made themselves undauntedly meiry with. Thus, deaf
to all muimurs or entreaties of those about him, he pursued
his point, even to throwing near her such trash as no person
can be supposed to carry about him, unless to use on so par-
ticular an occasion, A gentleman, then behind the scenes,
being shocked at his unmanly behaviour, was warm enough to
say, that no man but a fool or a bully could be capable of
insulting an audience or a woman m so monstrous a manner.
The former valiant gentleman, to whose ear the words were
soon brought by his spies, whom he had placed behind the
scenes to observe how the action was taken there, came im-

14

A imW HISTOET OF THE EHOLISH STAGE

mediately from tlie pit, in a teat, and demanded to know of
tte author of those words if he was the person that spoke
them, to which he calmly replied, That though he had never
seen him before, yet, since he seemed so earnest to be satisfied
he would do him the favour to own that, indeed, the words
were his^^ To conclude, their dispute was ended the next
morning m Hyde Park, where the determined combatant, who
first asked for satisfaction, was obliged afterwards to ask his
life too.

I remember (says Ohetwood) above twenty years past, I
was one of the audience at a new play ; before me sat a sea
officer with whom I had some acquaintance, on each hand of
him a couple of sparks both prepared with their offensive instru-
ments, vulgarly termed cat-calls, which they were often tuning
before the play began. The officer did not take any notice of
them till the curtain drew up , but when they continued their
sow-gelder^s music (as he unpolitely called it) he begged they
would not pi event his hearing the actors, though they might
not care whether they heard or no But they took little notice
of his civil request, which he repeated again and again to no
purpose. But at last one of them condescended to tell him,
if he did not like it he might let it alone Why, really,^^
replied the sailor, I do not like it, and would have you let
your noise alone I have paid my money to see and hear the
play, and your ridiculous noise not only hinders me, but a
great many other people that are here, I believe, with the
same design j now, if you prevent us, you rob us of our money
and our time; therefore I entreat you, as you look like
gentlemen, to behave as such One of them seemed mollified,
and put his whistle in his pocket, but the other was in-
corrigible The blunt tar made him one speech more. Sir,^^
said he, I advise you once more to follow the example of this
gentleman, and put up your pipe.*’^ But the piper sneered in
his face, and clapped his troublesome instrument to his mouth,
with cheeks swelled out hke a trumpeter, to give it a redoubled
and louder noise, but, like the broken crow of a cock in a
fright, the squeak was stopped in the middle by a blow from
the officer, which he gave him with so strong a will that his
chiid^s trumpet was struck through his cheek.

DISOBPIES.

U

Nor was this all Qum, who^ through the illness of Mills
three years before^ had taken the part of Bajazet at short
notice^ and had made a reputation on the spot^ was now to
contribute to this list of disorders. There was at the theatre
in Lincoln^s Inn Fields a choleric Irishman, named Bowen,
who had a loud stiong voice, which gave him the title of an
actor of spirit. Thiough the interest of the late Duke of
Ormond he got into the Eevenue m London He was fiery
to a fault, and passionate to his prejudice, which drew on
his own death by the unwilling hands of Mr Quin/^

Mr Bowen had several children by his wife, and a boy, who,
though he bore his name, had none of his care, and thex^efore
lived a dissolute life, without the least improvement from
education, and justly gained the nickname of Rugged and
Tough One day a clergyman in St. Clement Danes (a church
in the Strand) was catechising the children of the pansh,
where Rugged and Tough thrust among the lest Rugged^s
dress was none of the cleanest, which the good parson observ-
ing, called him the first to be examined I shall put the
short dialogue down just as I had it from an ear- witness;
since the questions are short, as well as the auswers, they will
not appear very tedious :

Parson. What^s your name ?

Bug, Rugged and Tough.

Parson, Who gave you that name ?

Bug, The boys of our alley, L — d d m ^em for^t.

The good parson was a little surprised, no doubt, and
ordered him to wait till the rest of the children were examined,
intending to polish Master Rugged and Tough , but Tough, ^
not liking to wait so long, stole off unperceiyed All I could
learn of Mr Rugged and Tough afterwards was that, having
a great inclination to travel, he contiived means to do it at the
charge of the Government.

Thus bad beginning to bad ending tends.

And vice xn Nature, Nature seldom mends.

16

A liTEW HISTORY OE THE EHOLISH STAGE

Nor can one relisTi exliibitions of decrepit old age,
tbougli sncli may be links between bygone generations. In*
tbe year 1720 there was some grotesque curiosity to see Peg
Flyer, who, it was asserted m tbe bills, bad never acted
since tbe days of Charles II./^ being then eigbty-five years old.

There were to be ^entertainments of dancing by Mrs. Fryer,
particularly tbe Bashful Maid and tbe Irish Trot,^ and when
she came to the dance she affected to be utterly exhausted.

She made her obeisance to the audience, and was about to
retire, when the orchestra struck up the Irish Trot, and the
animated old woman danced her promised jig with the nimble-
ness and vivacity of five-and-twenty, laughing at the surprise
of the audience, and receiving unbounded applause After
this, she kept a tavern and ordinary at Tottenham Court,
and her house was continually thronged with company, who
went, out of curiosity, to converse with this extraordinary old
woman

In 1723, this reign of the three managers, which was not
nndramatic, was to be rendered remarkable by the production
of a play, Sir Thomas Overbury, by that strangest of ad-
venturers, Eichard Savage, and whose story forms a romance
that fiction has never equalled This was the Eichard
Savage who has been assumed to have been Lady Macclesfield^s
unacknowledged son. This interestmg question has been
often discussed by Boswell, Dr. Johnson, and many others
Savage^s intolerant character is in favour of Lady Maccles-
field, whom it IS as unlikely that he should have persecuted as
that she should have appeared to be acting unnaturally in
resisting his claims It is certain, however, that she had a
child whose birth was attended with much mystery. It
appears that *^Anne, Countess of Macclesfield, under the name
of Madam Smith, was delivered of a male child in Fox Court,
near Brook Street, Holborn, by Mrs Wright, a midwife, on

DISOEDEES

17

Saturday^ the 16th of Januar'^ 1696-97, at six clock la the
moining, who was baptized on the Monday following, and
registered by the name of Richard, the son of John Smith/^
Daring her delivery the lady wore a mask, and Mary Pegler
on the next day after the baptism (Tnesday) took a male child,
whose mother was called Madam Smith, fiom the house of
Mrs Pheasant, who went by the name of Mis, Lee, in Pox
Court

Savage^s gifts attracted the friendship of Steele and
the excellent Wilks, who were unwearied in their efforts to
help him. But Savage was incurably dissipated, and, more-
over, seems to have had a malignant temper that prompted
him to turn on those who aided him. Steele wished to marry
him to his daughter, and promised to raise lOOOL for him ; but
the ill-conditioned Savage was presently turning his kind
patron into ridicule.

Mr Wilks, however, still remained m his interest ; and
even found means to soften the heait of Savage^s mother so
far as to obtain from her the sum of 50Z , with a promise
of further relief for this her outcast offspring, hut we do not
find that this promise was performed

Being thus obliged to depend on Mr Wilks, he became an
assiduous frequenter of the theatres , and thence the amuse-
ments of the stage took such possession of his mind that he
was never absent from a play in several years

In 1723, he brought on the stage his tragedy of ^^Sir
Thomas Overbury,” in which he himself performed the principal
character , but with so little reputation, that he used to blot
his name out of the dramatis personce whenever any of tke
printed copies of the play fell into his hands The whole
profits of this performance, from the acting, printing, and the
dedication, amounted to about 20OZ. When he found himself
greatly involved, he would ramble about like a vagabond, with
scarcely a shirt on his back. He was in one of these situations
all the time wherein he wrote his tragedy above mentioned ;
without a lodging, and often without a dinner, so that he used

18

A NEW HISTOET OF THE ENOLISH STAGE

to sciibble on scraps of paper picted up by accident, or
begged in tbe shops wbiob be occasionally stepped into, as*
thoughts occurred to him, craving the favour of the pen and
ink, as it were, 3 ust to take a memorandum.

In 1727, he came from Eichmond, and meeting with two
acquaintances, Marchant and Gregory, he went in with them
to a coffee-house, where they sat drinking until it was late
On leaving, they agreed to ramble about the stieets, and divert
themselves with such incidents as should occur, till morning.
Happening to discover a light in a coffee-house near Charing
Cross, they went in and demanded a room They were told
the next parlour would be empty presently, as a company
were then paying their reckoning, in order to leave it
Marchant, not satisfied with this answer, abruptly rushed into
the room and behaved very ludely This pioduced a quarrel,
swords weie drawn, and in the confusion one Mr James
Sinclair was killed A woman-servant likewise was acci-
dentally wounded by Savage as she was endeavouiing to hold
hum.

Savage and his companions, being taken into custody, were
tried for this offence, and both he and Gregory were capitally
convicted of murder. Savage pleaded his own cause, and
behaved with great resolution , but it was too plainly proved
that he gave Sinclair his death-wound, while Gregory com-
manded the sword of the deceased

The convicts, being reconducted to prison, were heavily
ironed, and remained with no hope of life but from the royal
mercy ; but his own mother endeavoured to intercept it.

Owing to the influence of Mrs Oldfield with Sir R
Walpole his pardon was obtained. His presumed mother
was forced, by his threats it was said, to make him a small
allowance, and he obtamed a situation in Lord TyrconneFs
family, with a salary of 200Z. a year. His lordship, however,
had soon to dismiss him, saying that Savage was guilty of intro-
ducing company into his house, with whom he practised the
most licentious frohcs, and committed all the outrages of
drunkenness ; moreover, that he pawned or sold the hooJcs of

BISOEDEES

19

which his lordship had made him a pi esent^ so that he had often
the mortification to see them exposed to sale upon stalls. On
the other hand^ Savage alleged that Lord Tyrconnel quarrelled
with him^ because he would not subtract from his own luxury
what he had promised to allow him. He now thought he
would levenge himself upon his mother. Accordingly, he
wrote The Bastard/’ in which occurs a famous line

Blest be the bastard^s birth * through wondrons ways
He shines eccentric like a comet’s blaze
No sickly fruit of faint compliance h© ;

He * stamp’d in Nature’s mint with ecstacy ^

He lives to build^ not boast, a gen’rous race ;

No tenth transmitter of a foolish face.

He, kindling from within, requires no flame,

He gloiies in a bastard’s glowing name.

— Nature’s unbounded son he stands alone.

His heart unbiass’d, and his mind his own
— 0 mother f yet no mothei ^ — His to you
My thaiiks for such distinguish^ d claims a'le due,

A more terrible, ghastly apostrophe was never penned.

This poem had an extraordinary sale , and its appearance
happening at the time when the lady was at Bath, many
persons there took frequent opportunities of repeating passages
from The Bastard ” in her hearing, so that she was obliged to
fly the place (0

He now sank lower and lower He forfeited a pension
which the Queen had given him. He spent his days and nights,
when he had any money, in eating and drinking, in which he
would indulge in the most unsociable manner, sitting whole
days and nights by himself, in obscure houses of entertainment,
over his bottle and pitcher, immersed m filth and mud, with
scarcely decent appaiel, generally wiapped up in a horseman’s
greatcoat , and, on the whole, with his very homely countenance
and figure altogether exhibiting an object the most disgusting
to the sight, if not to some other of the senses.

His poverty still increasmg, he was even reduced so low as

20

A 'NEW HISTOEY OF THE EHOLISH STAOE

to "he destitute of a lodging , insomucli tEat lie often passed
Ins nights in those mean houses which are set open for casual
wanderers^ sometimes in cellars, amidst the not and filth of
the most profligate of the rabble , and not seldom would he
walk the streets till he was weary, and then lie down (in
summer) on a bulk, or (in winter) with his associates among
the ashes of a glasshouse.

Yet, amidst all this penury and wretchedness had this man
so much pride, so high an opinion of his own merit, that he
ever kept up his spirits, and was always ready to repress, with
scorn and contempt, the least appearance of any slight or
indignity towards himself in the behaviour of his acquaintance,
among whom he looked upon none as his superior , he would
be treated as an equal even by persons of the highest rank *
He refused to wait upon a gentleman who was desirous of
relieving him when at the lowest ebb of distress, only because
the message signified the gentleman’s desire to see him at nine
0 ^ clock in the morning

It was proposed by his fi lends that he should retire into
Wales, with an allowance of 50Z per annum, on which he was
to live privately, in a cheap place, for ever quitting his town
haunts

In 1739 he set out for Swansey in the Bristol stage-coach,
and was furnished with fifteen guineas to bear the expense of
his journey , but, on the fourteenth day after his departure,
his friends and benefactors, the principal of whom was no other
than the great Mr. Pope, who expected to hear of his arrival
in Wales, were surpiised with a letter from Savage, informing
them that he was yet upon the road, and could not proceed for
want of money There was no other remedy than a remittance ,
which was sent him, and by the help of which he was enabled
to reach Biistol, from whence he was to proceed to Swansey by
water At Bristol, however, he found an embargo laid upon
the shipping, so that he could not immediately obtain a
passage. Here, therefore, being obliged to stay for some time,
he, with his usual facility, so ingratiated himself with the
principal inhabitants that he was frequently invited to their
houses, distmguished at their public entertainments, and treated
with a regaid that highly gratified his vanity, and theiefore
easily engaged his affections. At length, with great reluctance.

BISOEDEES.

21

lie proceeded to Swansey, wliere lie stayed about a year, very
mucli dissatisfied with the dimiautiou of his salary , for he had,
in his letters, treated his contributors so insolently, that most
of them withdrew their subscriptions. Here he finished his
tragedy, and resolved to return with it to London, which was
strenuously opposed by his great and constant friend Mr Pope,
who proposed that Savage should put this play into the hands
of Mr Thomson and Mr Mallet, in order that they might fit
it for the stage This kind and prudent scheme was rejected
by Savage with the utmost contempt He declared he would
not submit his works to anyone^s correction , and that he would
no longer be kept in leading-strings Accordingly he soon
returned to Bristol in his way to London , but at Bristol meet-
ing with a repetition of the same kind treatment he had before
found there, he was tempted to make a second stay m that
opulent city for some time. Here he was again not only
caressed and treated, hut the sum of 30Z was raised for
him, with which it had been happy if he had immediately de-
parted foi London , but be never considered that a frequent
repetition of such kindness was not to be expected, and that
it was possible to tire out the generosity of his Bristol friends,
as he had before tired bis fi lends everywhere else. In short,
he remained here till his company was no longer welcome.
His visits in every family were too often repeated; his wit
had lost its novelty, and his inegular behaviour grew trouble-
some Necessity came upon him before be was aware, his
money was speftt, his clothes were worn out, his appearance
was shabby, and his presence was disgustful at every table.
He stayed, in the midst of poverty, hunger, and contempt,
till the mistress of a coffee-house, to whom he owed about
81 f arrested him for the debt He remained for some
time, at a great expense, in the house of the sheriff's officer, m
hopes of procuring bail, which expense he was enabled to
defray by a piesent of five guineas from Mr Fash at Bath Ko
hail, however, was to be found , so that poor Savage was at
last lodged in Newgate, a prison so named, in Bristol

But it was the fortune of this extraordinary mortal always
to find more friends than he deserved. The keeper of the
prison took compassion on him, and greatly softened the
rigours of his confinement by every kind of indulgence ; he

22

A NEW HISTOET OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

supported him at his own tahle, gave him a commodious room
to himself, allowed him to stand at the door of the gaol, and
even frequently took him into the fields for the benefit of the
air and exercise, so that, in reality, Savage endured fewer
hardships in this place than he had usually suffered during the
greater part of his life

Here he wrote the satire entitled, London and Bristol
Compared, and in it he abused the inhabitants of the latter
with such a spirit of resentment, that the reader would imagine
he had never received any other than the most injurious
treatment in that city.

He was seized with a disorder which at first was not sus-
pected to be dangerous , but, growing daily more languid and
dejected, at last a fever seized him, and he expired on the
1st of August, 1743, in the forty-sixth year of his age.

In 1725 we have a glimpse of a little pictuie — the veteran
poet Southern, who had lingered on past his contemporaiies,
venturing to bring out a comedy called Money, the Mistress
Says Victor :

I happened to be behind the scenes the first night of this
comedy at Covent Garden, and was very sorry to find that the
audience did not take the age, as well as the great merit of this
author, into their consideration, and quietly dismiss this last
weak effort to please them When they were hissing dreadfully
in the fifth act, Mr, Eich, who was standing by Mr Southern,
asked him if he heard what the audience were doing ^ His
answer was, No, sir, I am very deaf

Mr. Oldys remembered Mr. Southern as a grave and
venerable old gentleman. He lived near Oovent Garden, and
used often to frequent the evening prayers there, always neat
and decently dressed, commonly in black, with his silver sword
and silver locks Yet this was the author of the pathetic
^^Oronooko,^^ and of the terrible Fatal Marriage — ^performed
in the old days when Wilham the Third was king.

Southern was bom and educated in Dublin, and was one of
the soldier dramatists, having served under the Duke of York,

DISOBDEES.

23

like mail; to wkom dramatic writers are under serious obliga-
tion; as lie was tbe fiist to methodise and put on a sound basis
the question of authors^ profits For his Spaitan Fame/^
played brilliantly in 1719; by Booth; WilkS; and Cibber; he
leceived from the bookselleis 150^; then considered to be an
immense sum It is curious that in our day this taste for
leading a play has departed, but it seems to haye been the
result of the monopoly, as all could not attend the theatres,
Mr Dryden once took occasion to ask him how much he got
hy one of his plays, to which he answered that he was really
ashamed to inform him '^But Mr Dryden being a little
importunate to know, he plainly told him that by his last play
he cleared 700Z ; which appeared astonishing to Dryden, as he
himself had never been able to acquire more than lOOZ by his
most successful pieces. The secret is. Southern was not beneath
the diudgei’y of solicitation, and often sold his tickets at a very
high price, hy making applications to persons of distinction
A few items as to authors’ prices maybe welcome Cibher,
for his play of The Nonjuror, received a hundred guineas
For a fairly successful tragedy in the last century the book-
sellers gave from 50Z to 80Z Dryden produced twenty-seven
plays in twenty-five years, and received about 25Z for each
piece, and 70Z for his benefit — a miserable dole. Indeed,
the dreadful series of hack-writers, and their struggles,
would make up a tale of suffering and troubles that seems
inci edible. Had Goldsmith lived he would probably have sunk
into the most abject misery, and have been overwhelmed A
wiiter with such poetical talent, sunk in debt to the
amount of 2000Z , his brains mortgaged far in advance, could
never have worked himself free A long list of such unhappy
dramatists could be made out^ — ^Bickeistaff, Dibdm, Evane,
etc Kit Smart is a type who superadded to his sorrows that
of going mad and being confined m an asylum, where he wrote

CHAPTEE 11.

^^THE beggar’s opera

In the histoiy of every theatre there have always been some
eminently successful pieces, the production of which has
brought not only piosperity but reputation These occasions
are unhappily few, but in certain instances they have been
remarkable beyond the occasion, as endowing the stage with a
permanent treasure. Among these may be counted the pro-
duction of Goldsmith’s " She Stoops to Conquer,” Sheridan’s
^^Eivals” and "The School for Scandal,” in a far lower
degree, though quite as successful, "The Lady of Lyons,”
which may be considered the great "stock-pieces” of our
stage. Perhaps, however, the greatest success of last
century — on its production that is, making due allow-
ance for the surrounding conditions — was "The Beggar’s
Opera

The history of this piece is interesting and curious in
every point of view, from the authors concerned, the wit
displayed, and the fortunes of the actors.

Various "hands” were concerned in it. "Gay,” says

* Ifc IS cTinoBS tRaij Boswell should tave collected materials for a regular
work on the subject, but be was not able to carry out bis plan.

«THE BEGGAR’S OPERA”

25

Mr Pope^ was inclined to try at such a thing for some time,
hut afterwaids thought it would be better to write a comedy
on the same plan. This was what gave rise to ^The Beggar^s
Opera ^ He began on it, and when fiisb he mentioned it to
Swift, the doctoi did not like the project As he carried it on,
he showed what he wrote to both of us, and we, now and
then, gave a coirection, or a word or two of advice, but it was
wholly of his own writing. When it was done, neither of us
thought it would succeed. We showed it to Congreve, who,
after reading it over, said, ^ It would either take greatly, or he
damned confoundedly ^

^^At Sohombeig House, Pall Mall, was first concocted
the dramatic scheme of this famous opera. It was originally
proposed to Swift to name it the ‘Newgate Opera ^ Swift
delighted to quote his Devonshire pastorals, they being very
characteristic of low rustic life, and congenial to his taste.
Under the influence of such notions, he proposed to Gay to
bestow his thoughts upon writing ‘A Newgate Pastoral,^
adding, ^ And I will, sub rosa, afford you my best assistance ^
This scheme was talked over at Queensberry House, and Gay
commenced it, but it was soon dropped Another scheme
— that for ‘The Beggar’s Opera ^ — was approved, and
written forthwith, under the auspices of the duchess,
and performed at the theatre in Lincoln^s Inn Pields,
under the immediate influence of her grace, who, to induce
the manager, Rich, to bring it upon his stage, agreed to
indemnify him all the expenses he might incur, piovided than
the daring speculation should fail The offer had first been
proposed to Fleetwood and his paitners, at Diury Lane
Theatre, but it was at once rejected by them as a piece that
would not be tolerated by a public audience.’’

To this opera (says Ehrkman, who must have had it from
Mackhn) theie was no music originally intended to accompany

26

A ITEW HISTOET OP THE ENGLISH STAGE.

tie songs, till Eicli, the manager, suggested it on the second
last rehearsal. The junto of wits, who regularly attended, one
and all objected to it, and it was given up till the Duchess of
Queensberry (Gay’s staunch patroness) accidentally hearing of
it, attended herself the next rehearsal, when it was tried and
universally approved of The fiist song, The Modes of the
OourV^ was written by Lord Chesterfield, “Virgins aie like
the fair flower in its lustre, by Sir Charles Hanbury Williams ,
^^When you censure the age,^^ by Swift, and “Gamesters
and lawyers are jugglers ahke/^ supposed to be written by
Mr. Fortescue, then Master of the Rolls.*

The piece, however, after being touched up by Swift and
Pope, was offered to various managers, who all peremp-
torily declined it Nay, when it was taken to Rich in
Lincoln’s Inn Fields, he grew despondent about it during the
rehearsal, and was inclined to give it up “ Indeed, says
Victor, who must have had the account from him, “ on the
first night of performance its fate was doubtful for some time
The first act was received with silent attention, not a hand
moved, at the end of which they lose, and every man seemed
to compare notes with his neighbour, and the general opinion
was in its favour. In the second act they broke their silence
by maiks of their appiobation, to the great joy of the frighted
performers as well as the author, and the last act was received
with universal applause ”

Macklm was piesent at the first representation of “The
Beggar^s Opera, and confirmed what has often been reported,
that its success was doubtful till after the opening of the
second act, when, after the chorus song of “ Let us take the
road,^^ the applause was as universal as unbounded

Pope was also present, and says “We were all, at the
first night of it, in great uncertainty of the event, till we were
very much encouraged by our hearing the Duke of Argyle,

* “ The ahoye information came from the late Dowager Lady Townshend

“THE BECaAB’S OPEEA*’

27

wlio sat m tlie next box to us, say . ^ It will do — it masfe do —
see it in the eyes of tbem ^ Tins was a good wliile before tie
first act was ovei, and so gave ns ease soon^ for that duke,
beside Ins own good taste, bas as particular a knack as anyone
now living in discovering tbe taste of the public He was
quite rigbt in tbis, as usual, the good -nature of the audience
appeared stronger and stronger in every act, and ended in &
clamour of applause/^

And among its ardent patrons were the well-known Duke
and Duchess of Queensberry, she ever fair and young/^
Their advocacy was indeed so marked that they weie forbid
the OourV^ and, in consequence, tbe duke resigned his
appointment The lady wrote •

The Duchess of Queensberry is surprised and well pleased
that the King has given her so agreeable a command as
forbidding bei the Court, where she never came for diversion,
but to bestow a very great civility on the King and Queen.
She hopes that by so unprecedented an order as this the King
will see as few as he wishes at Court, particularly such as dare
to think or speak the truth I dare not do otherwise, and
ought not , nor could I have imagined but that it would have
been the highest compliment I could possibly pay the King
and Queen, to support truth and innocence in their house

0 Queexsbeeey

P S — ^Particularly when tbe King and Queen told me they
bad not read Mr Gay^s play I have certainly done them
right to justify my own behaviour, rather than act like his

Grace of , who has neither made use of truth, honour, or

judgment m this whole affair, either for himself or his friends.

This extraordinary being was recalled by the fencing-
master, Angelo, who lived till the reign of George the Pouith.

I remember her,” he says, in her formal dress, her long
stomacher, and short pomt-lace apron, and her grey locks
combed smoothly over her cushion ; and the duke, a tall, lean.

28

A ISTEW HISTOEY OF THE ENOLISH STAGE

uprigEt figure, attii ed in tlie costume of one of the old school,
m his embroidered waistcoat, laced cocked hat, and whip, as
repiesented in the sporting pictures of Wootton, the painter,
in his Newmarket racers I moreover recollect that her giace,
though then very aged, appealed to have been a great beauty,
and that the servants who waited at table were so many
awfully-looking, silent, old-fashioned, livened frumps/^

They were, however, recalled to Oouit, and attended the
coronation. An old housekeepei, Miss Shaites, described to
Angelo their numerous visits to the theatre to support the
new play, sending also the household neaily twenty times
duiing its ^^run^^ of sixty-three nights — then, and I suppose
for a hundred years later, a run that was unparalleled

The 111 ci edible success of this opeia was supposed to be
entiiely owing to the attacks on the Court

The song of Peachum, the thief -taker, as oiiginally written
by Gay, was less severe Pope altexed the two last lines

The priest calls the lawyer a cheat.

The lawyer be-knaves the divine,

And the statesman^ hecause lie^s so g'leat,

ThiJiks his trade ts as honest as mine

These stood in Gay^s manusciipt .

And there^s many ariive to be great.

By a trade not moi’e honest than mine

The line.

Since laws weie made for every degiee,

was Pope^s also.

The cast was as follows :

Men : Peachum, Mr, Hyppesly ; Lockit, Mr. Hall |
Macheath, Mr Walker, Pilch, Mr, Clark; Jemmy Twitcher,
Mr. H. Bullock, Oiook-fingered Jack, Mr. Houghton, Wat
Dreary, Mr, Smith ; Robin of Bagshot, Mr. Lacy , Nimming

^*THE BEGGAE’S OPEEA

29

Ned^ Mr Pitt, Harry Paddington, Mr Eaton; Mat of tlie
Mint, Mr Spiller, Ben Budge, Mr Moigan , beggar, Mr
Obapman, player, Mr Milward, constables, drawers, turn-
keys, etc. Women Mrs Peackum, Mrs Martin , Polly
Peackum, Miss Penton , Lucy Lockit, Mrs Egleton ; Diana
Trapes, Mrs Mai tin, Mrs Goaxer, Mrs Holiday, Dolly Tiull,
Mrs Lacy, Mrs Vixen, Mrs Eice, Betty Doxy, Mrs Eogers,
Jenny Divei, Mrs Clark, Mrs Slaniakin, Mrs Morgan, Snky
Tawdry, Mrs Palin , Molly Brazen, Mrs Sallee

So famous a play made tke very actors famous, notably
Tom Walker, wko played Mackeatk Qum was first designed
for tkis pait, wko barely sung well enougk to give a convivial
song in company Tke kigk leputation of Gay, kowever, and
tke critical junto wko supported kim, made kim drudge tkrougk
two rekearsals On tke close of tke last, Walker was obseived
humming some of tke songs bekmd tke scenes, m a tone and
liveliness of manner wkick attracted all tkeir notice Qum
laid kold of this circumstance to get nd of tke part, declaring
tkat ^Walker was tke man to do it^

However, tke applause ke received and tke attention lie
engaged fiom tke gay young sparks of tke town led kim into
kabits of drinking

He seems to kave been a really fine actor, says a good
judge and artist kimself — Davies. ^^He kad from nature
great advantages of voice and person kis countenance was
manly and expressive; and kis kumoui, ease, and gaiety,
wkick ke assumed in Mackeatk and other characters of this
complexion, rendered him a great favourite with tke public.
He knew little scientifically of music other than singing a song
in good ballad tune, but tkat singing was supported by a
speaking eye and inimitable action. In Palconbridge,^^ ke
adds, ^Hkougk Garrick, Sheridan, Delane, and Barry kave
attempted it, tkey all fell skoit of tke merits of Tom Walker.
In him alone were found tke several requisites for tke character :

A NEW HISTOBY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

a strong and muscnlar person, a bold intrepid loot, manly
deportment, yigorous action, and a linmour wiicb descended
to an easy familiarity in conveying a jest or sarcasm with un-
common poignancy When Falconbndge replies to Salisbury's
taunt of galling him,

You had better gall the devil, Salisbury,

If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot,

Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame,

ITl strike thee dead.

Walker uttered these words with singular propriety , he drew
his sword, threw himself into a noble attitude, sternly knit his
black brows, and gave a loud stamp with his foot

The usual result of histrionic debauchery followed, and
Chet wood thus quaintly recoids his fate

He followed Bacchus too ardently, msomuch that his credit
was often drowned upon the stage, and by degrees almost
rendered him useless He was supposed author of two
dramatic pieces, viz ^^The Quaker^s Opeia,^^ and a tragedy
called ^^The Fate of Villainy This play he brought to
Ireland in the year 1744, and prevailed on the proprietors to
act it under the title of Love and Loyalty The second
night was given out for his benefit, but, not being able to pay
in half the charge of the common expenses, the doors were
ordered to be kept shut, but I remember a few people came
to ask the reason. However, I fear this disappointment
hastened his death, for he survived it but three days, dying m
the forty-fourth year of his age, a martyr to what often stole
from him a good understanding.

He who delights in drinkmg out of season.

Takes wond^rous pains to drown his manly reason.

The brilliant success of the company was, of course, the
Polly Peachum of Lavinia Fenton Bred in a coffee-house, but
having the simple charm of singing ballads, she appeared

«THE BEGGAR’S OPERA”

31

at tlie Haymarket, and was drawn tienc© by EicTi witR a
tempting offer of 15^ a week, but on tie astonisking
success of tke piece tins was doubled It was calculated
tkat, according to tke number of playing-nigkts in tke season,
tkis was wortk no more tkan 45L a year. Site became tlie
rage. Tke fan and print skops exhibited her pictures. The
Duke of Bolton courted ker ardently, and, it was belieyed,
made ker a promise of tke succession to his wife He gave out
that ke was first captivated by tke plaintive and bewitching
manner in wkick she gave tke song, 0 ponder well, ke not
severe Not till twenty-three years after did tke duchess
depart tkis life, when tke duke redeemed kis engagement.

MacMin declared tkat tke charm of ker performance,
and ker diess, was its simplicity, ^‘'like tkat of a modern
Quakeress Dr. J. Warton, wko met ker at table, declares
she was a very accomplisked and most agreeable companion ,
kad muck wit, good strong sense, and a 3 ust taste m polite
hteratuie Her person was agreeable and well made, tkougk
I tkink ske could never be called a beauty I kave had the
pleasure of hemg at table witk ker, wken her conversation
was muck admired by tke first ckaracteis of tke age, par-
ticularly old Lord Batkurst and Lord Gianville Tke original
Polly only remained on tke stage for the first season, and was
succeeded by a Miss Warren, who was also carried off by an
admirer. Miss Norris, Miss Palkner, Mrs. Chambers, Miss
Brent (tke most successful after the first), Mrs. Arne, Madame
Mara, and Mrs Cibber Suck was tke line of Pollys.

Lucy was taken by a Mrs Egleton, tke wife of an actor of
tkat name She attracted tke praise of tke Duke of Argyle,
^^wko took a particular pleasure in seeing Mis Egleton, and
always spoke of ker m the handsomest terms However,
ske wanted prudence, and whether from herself or from tke
example of her husband, ske died enamoured of Bacchus ”

32

A I^EW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

FilcE was undertaken ky Nat Clarke, who was assisted by

meagre countenance, a skamblmg gait, and a thorougb
knowledge of tbe slang language He was a sort of under
barlequin^^ to Eicb, to wkom be bad a resemblance, wbicb gave
use to tbis whimsical incident

One of tbe actors having had some words with Clarke,
during the representation of a pantomime, waited till he
should find an opportunity of showmg his resentment Un-
luckily, Eich being in the way of this angry person, as he
came off the stage, he, thinking it was Clarke, struck him
such a blow on the breast as for a time deprived him of the
power of breathing The man instantly made every apology
for his mistake. But pray. Muster, says Eich, what
provocation could Clarke possibly give you to strike so
hard?^^

More disastrous was the end of another Clarke, Jeremiah,
composer of one of the airs and a good musician. Conceiving
a passion for a lady of high rank, he determined to destroy
himself Borrowing a horse from a friend, he set off from
London, he knew not whither. He went into a field, in the
corner of which was a pond surrounded with trees, which
pointed out to his choice two ways of getting rid of life
Hesitating for some time which to take, he at last determined
to leave it to chance, and taking a piece of money out of his
pocket, tossed it up in the air to decide it The money, how-
ever, falling on its edge in the clay, seemed to forbid both
ways of destruction , and it had such an effect upon him that
he dechned it for that time, and regaining his horse, rode to
town.

His mind, however, was too much disordered to receive
comfort, or take any advantage from the above omen; and
after a few months, worn out m the utmost dejection of spirits,
he shot himself m his own house m Bt Paul's Churchyard,

«THE BEGGAE’S OPEEA ”

33

Peaclium was drawn from Jonathan Wild, tte tlaief-tater,
who had suffered death for his notonous villanies about three
years before the production of this opera, and Peachum
perusing his Tyburn list was nothing moie than the daily-
practice of Wild Gay, however, by fiequently comparing
highwaymen to com tiers, aimed at Sir Eobert Walpole, then
Prime Minister In the scene where Peachum and Lochit are
described settling their accounts, Lochit sings the song,
* When you censure the age,’ etc , which had such an effect
on the audience that, as if by instinct, the greater part of
them threw their eyes on the stage-box, where the minister
was sitting, and loudly encoded it Sir Robeit saw this stroke
instantly, and saw it with good-humour, e^icoi ed it a second
time himself, 3oined in the general applause, and by this
means brought the audience into so much good-humour with
him that they gave him a general huzza fiom all parts of the
house

^^But notwithstanding this escape, eveiy night, and for
many years afterwards, that ^The Beggai^s Opera ^ was
brought out, Macklin used to say the minister never could
with any satisfaction he piesent at its representation on
account of the many allusions which the audience thought
referred to his character The first song was thought to point
to him , the name of Boh Booty, whenever mentioned, again
raised the laugh against him; and the quairelling scene
between Peachum and Lockit was so well understood at that
time to allude to a recent quarrel between the two ministers,
Lord Townshend and Sir Eobert, that tke house was in
convulsions of applause ”

Such was the success of this remarkable piece, performed
for a season ending June 19 th *

* It IS curious that evea the amount of receipts sTiould be sbown The

36

A NEW HISTOEY OP THE ENGLISH STAGE

cliaiacters tliat gave liiiii mfinit© surprise and satisfaction.
His cuiiosity was too prevalent to observe the heiglit of good'
manneiSj therefore he made a pretence to go into the room,
where he was struck dumb some time with her figure and
blooming beauty^ but was more astonished at her discourse
and spiightly wit, Mr, Farquhar pressed her to pursue her
amusement, but was obliged to depart without that satisfaction
Mr Wilks was at that time in Ireland, theiefore he took
some pains to acquaint Sir John Vanbrugh (who had some
share m the theatie) with the 3ewel he had found thus by
accident It was some time before she would be prevailed
upon Though she has merrily told me, I longed to be at it,
and only wanted a little decent entreaties Alinda, in The
Pilgiim,** was the fiist part in which she was taken notice of,
which Sir John Vanbiugh altered and revived upon her
account, which is a chaiacter of different species of passions
and vaiiety, where she chaimed the play into a run of many
succeeding nights I remember her in her full round of glory
m comedy , she used to slight tragedy. She would often say,
^^I hate to have a page diaggmg my tail about Why do
they not give Poiter these parts, she can put on a better
tragedy face than I can^” When Mithridates was re-
vived, it was with much diflS.culty she was prevailed upon to
take the part, but she perfoimed it to the utmost length of
perfection, and after that she seemed much better reconciled
to tiagedy. What a ma3estical dignity m Oleopatia * and
indeed m every pait that lequiied it , such a finished figure on
the stage was nevei yet seen. In Galista, the fair penitent,
she was inimitable in the third act with Horatio, when she
teais the letter with

To atoms ^ thus ^

Thus let me tear the vile detested falsehood,

The wicked lying evidence of shame ^

Her excellent clear voice of passion, her piercing flaming
eye, with manner and action suiting, used to make me think
with awe, and seemed to put her monitor Horatio into a mouse-
hole I almost gave him up for a troublesome puppy, and
though Mr. Booth played the part of Lothario, I could hardly
lug him up to the importance of triumphing over such a

LEADma ACTEESSES-OLDFIELE AKI) POETEE 37

finislied piece of peifection, that seemed to be too much dig-
nified to lose her Tiitue Even her blemishes seemed to lose
that glare which appear round the persons of the failing fair,
neither was it ever known she tioubled the repose of any
lady^s lawful claim, and was far more constant than millions
in the conjugal noose She was of a superior height, but with
a lovely pioportion, and the dignity of her soul equal to her
form and stature, made up of benevolent chanty, affable and
good-natured to all that deseived it Mr Savage, son to the
Eail Elvers, when he was peisecuted by his unnatural mother,
received fiom her ever-giving bountiful hand 50? a year
during her life, and was, with Mr "Wilks, a mam means
in saving him from an ignominious end

The pait of Sophonisba, a tragedy (by Mi. Thomson,
famed for many excellent poems), was reputed the cause of her
death, for in her execution she went beyond wonder to
astonishment ^ Piom that time her decay came slowly on, and
never left her till it conducted her to eternal rest the 23rd of
October, 1730

In shoit, it was pi enounced to be Mrs Oldfield as Lady
Betty, rather than Lady Betty by Mrs Oldfield ; for Oibher’s
characters made her reputation, as he, indeed, testifies in
one of his graphic dedications addressed to the Duke of Argyll
There he quotes a desciiption of a contemporary comedian to
the effect that ^^she was then (1727) in the highest excellence
of action, just rising to that height where tlie gz-aceful can
only begin to show itself, of a lively aspect, and a command
m her mien Her voice was sweet, strong, piercing, and
melodious, her pronunciation voluble, distinct, and musical.
. , . She had one peculiar happiness from nature : she
looked and maintained the agreeable at a time when other fine
women only raise admirers by their understanding. The
spectator was always as much informed by her eyes as by her
elocution, for the look is the only proof that an actor rightly
conceives what he utters She succeeded to Mrs. Yer-
bruggen’s characters ; but what really made her famous was

38

A NEW HISTOET OE THE ENGLISH STAGE.

Lady Betty Modish, in Oibber^s Careless Husband In
this character the two qualities of the genteel and the elegant
shone out to perfection, and was so admirably suited to her
natural and agreeable manner of conversation, that almost
every sentence may be said to have been heard from her own
mouth before she uttered it.

Egerton, a small critic of the day, knew her well, and
collected, in 1731, all he could about her From one Taylor,
formerly a servant to Mr Eich, he gleaned the following as to
her rise Dining one day at her aunt’s, who kept The Mitre,
in St James’s Market, Captain Farquhar heard Miss Fanny
reading a play behind the bar with so proper an emphasis that
he swore the giil was cut out for the stage When her mother
next saw Captain Vanbrugh, she told him Captain Farquhar’s
opinion. Miss being called in, and asked what her fancy was
— ^for tragedy or comedy, said Comedy. She was accordingly
engaged at 15s a week. However, her agreeable figure and
the sweetness of her voice soon gave her the preference, in the
opinion of the whole town, to all the young actresses, and his
Grace the Duke of Bedford being pleased to speak to Mr Eich
in her favour, he instantly laised her allowance to 20s.”

Mrs. Oldfield offers an extraordinary type of what the
actiess then was, and was, in her way, a remarkable woman.
She was ^^recommended to the stage” in 1699. She made
her first impression as Lady Betty Modish, as we have
seen, in the year 1704 ^^Mis. Oldfield was in person tall,
genteel, and well shaped , her countenance pleasing and
expressive, enhvened with large speaking eyes, which, in some
particular comic situations, she kept half shut, especially when
she intended to give effect to some brilliant or gay thought.
In sprighthness of air and elegance of manner she excelled all
actresses; and was greatly superior in the clear, sonorous,
and harmonious tones of her voice.”

LEADma ACTEESSES-~-OLBEIELD A.’ED PORTEE 39

By being a welcome and constant visitor to families of
distinction, Mrs. Oldfield acquired an elegant and graceful
deportment in representing women of bigli rank She
expressed the sentiments of Lady Betty Modish and Lady
Townly in a manner so easy, natural, and flowing, and so like
to her common conversation, that they appeared to be her own
genuine conception. The former character has been umversally
said to be her ne plus ultra in acting She slided so giacefully
into the foibles, and displayed so humorously the excesses of
a fine woman, too sensible of her charms, too confident of her
power, and led away by her passion for pleasure, that no
succeeding Lady Townly arrived at her many distinguished
excellences in that character. Mrs Heion, her successor, and
the beautiful Mrs. Woffington, came nearest to her. She was
introduced to Christopher Eich by Sir J ohn Vanbrugh. She
lived successively the friend and mistress of Arthur Manwaring,
Esq, one of the most accomplished men of his age, and
General Churchill Notwithstanding these connections wei’e
publicly known, she was invited to the houses of women of
fashion, as much distinguished for unblemished character as
elevated rank The royal family did not disdain to see Mrs.
Oldfield at their levees George II and Queen Caroline, when
Prince and Princess of Wales, often condescended to converse
with her

She IS best remembered by the well-known lines of Pope,
beyond question accepted as applying to her .

Odious ^ in woollen ^ ^twould a saint provoke !

Were the last words which poor Narcissa spoke.

No ^ let a charming chintz and Brussels lace

Wrap my cold limbs and shade my lifeless face.

One would not, sure, be frightful when one^s dead ;

And, Betty, give this cheek a little red.

“ What was the particular cause of his spite to her — he
even describes her conversation contemptuously in his ^Art of
Smiling^ — ^it IS hard to discover. Professional satirists are
often directed m their dislikes by humour.^^

The Duke of Bedford was a patron of the drama, and,

40

A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

according to the mild phrase of the day^ had taken a Miss
Campion off the stage/^ a girl of seyenteen, who was pre-
sently out off in her bloom by a hectic fever, under which she
languished four months This was in 1706, and his grace,
who seems to have had the odd notion of morals and piety by
which historians so often extenuate their failings, ^^put up
a neat tablet and a Latin insciiption alluding to tine vii kies
of the mind ” for which the deceased was lemarkable It was
thus anglicised

Though meanly born her morals were sincere.

And such as the most noble blood might weai ^

Some yeais the stage her sprightly action graced,

Most others in her conduct she sui passed
Saci ed to her most dear remains be ^t known.

His Grace of Devon consecrates this stone

The duke gave her a prayer-book, and was good enough
to write on the flyleaf a little system of natural religion. The
patron himself died about a year later, and was panegyrised in
a funeral sermon by Dr Kennet. Altogether a most singular
episode But to return to Mrs Oldfield

She piesently attracted the notice of Mr Maynwaiing, a
man of wit and parts, and whose company was much sought ,
the friend, too, of Marlborough and Godolphin, and who also
was fond of the green-room, writing prologues, etc Between
her and this gentleman ^^a strict alliance and friendship
commenced On the well-known revolt from Eich taking
place she joined Vanbrugh at the Haymarket, and though
there were three great actresses in possession of the town, she
succeeded in driving off Bracegirdle When she retired to
Drury Lane, Thomson's Sophonisba was put in rehearsal,
and Mrs. Rogers was to have had what is now vulgarly called
the title-r61e ; but the author and his friends at once felt that
Mrs Oldfield was best suited to the part On which the

LEADING ACTB.ESSES--OLDFIELD ANTD POUTER 41

discarded favourite raised a Lost of profligates^ fond of
tumult and riot^ wLo made sucli a commotion in tLe liouse
tLat tLe Court sent four of tlie royal messengers and a guard
to suppress all disorders.

In 1712, Mr Mayn waring was seized with an illness arising
from a chill caught by attending on her Giace of Marlborough
111 her gardens This turned to consumption. He had, in
truth, lived too haid, and he wished to reform, but it was too
late, for his company was so much the delight of the gieat,
the fair, and the gay, that he was very little at home. He diank
freely, and as his wines were generally champagne and bur-
gundy, it was to their co? ? os%ve qiiaht%es that he imputed the
state of health he was fallen into His last suiEfermgs were,
however, comfoited by visits from the Queen herself, who wept
at his bedside In November^ 1712, he expired lu the arms of
his servant, Wood, now tieasurer of Lmcoln^s Inn Fields
Mrs Oldfield was remaikahle as having acted in all the
chef-d/ceuv'ies of Cibber and Steele

The account of her last illness is as curious as her life
She earnestly asked her doctors to tell her the truth, and
when they said ‘they feaied the fatality of it,’ she answered,
without the least shock or emotion, that ‘she acquiesced in the
lot Providence had assigned her. She would bear her afflic-
tions patiently ’ She then set her house in order. After six
months’ languishraent, she died on October 23rd, 1730” Her
friend, Mrs. Sanders, who attended her all through, and was
left a small annuity, bewailed her Writing to Mr Egerton-
“ Her funeral I never heard her once mention, but Christian
fortitude she had sufficient, for though she had no piiest, she
did the office of one to the last It may be justly said she
prayed without ceasing She was all goodness The best of
daughters, the best of mothers, and the best of friends. Oh,
that I had words to sound forth her praises ! ”

VOL. n, t!*

A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENaLISH STAGE

Connected mtli tins deatE of the once-favoured actress
Oldfield there were some odd incidents Never was a life
conducted in defiance of all the respectable rules required
by society so honoured at its close As the nicety of
dress was her delight when living, she was as nicely dressed
after her decease, being, by Mrs Sanders’s direction,
thus laid in her coffin She had on a very fine Brussels
lace headdress, a holland shift, with tuckers and double
ruffles of the same lace, and a pair of new kid gloves*
On Tuesday, the 27th, her body was carried from her house m
Grosvenor Stieet to her funereal chamber The pall was
supported by Lord Delawar, Loid Harvey, and other noblemen*
The inscription on her tomb ran

HIC JACET ANNE OLBEIELB
JAM MEA PEEACTA EST
VOS plaudite

She was buried in Westminster Abbey, though it was
proposed by those who were naturally scandalised at such an
honour being paid to a woman of questionable life, to lay hold
of an obsolete Popish canon, No stage-players ; but I
have been assured by Dr Barker himself that he buried
Mrs. Oldfield very willingly and with the greatest satisfaction/^
Her effects were sold by auction, and the catalogue gives a
good idea of her nice taste ^^The collection contained medals,
gold and silver, marble family ^bustos^j a dog, curiously
performed in marble , finely-carved gems ; many fine portraits
—■one of Lord Essex, by Holbein, others by Vandyke and
Kneller; some costly jewels, a necklace with thirty-seven
garnets, and a diamond in each, a fine large pearl necklace,
a brilliant weighing eleven-and-a-half grains, a diamond
necklace of thirty-four brilliants ; five brilliant crochets ;
brilliant earrings, etc* She had, besides, a pretty collection of
books/^

LEADING AOTRBSSES—OLDFIELD AND POBTER 43

But, indeed, tins season was to be remarkable for tie
abandonment of the stage by a truly brilliant actress, an
incident not unattended with a display of spirit, for most of
tiese tragedy- queens were women of a fine character and
spirit, which, as we have seen, make them actually figures in
the tapestry of their times Mountfort, Oldfield, Bracegirdle,
Woffington — all inspired brilliant pens. Of tiese, Gibbei^s
desciiption has been well described as surpassing, and by
most IS considered his masterpiece On Bracegirdle ie is
silent, it IS said owing to her being still living as he wrote,
which, however, would not hinder a well-deserved compliment
It was a singular thing to find a woman of such gifts, and in the
flush of her popularity, withdrawing from tie stage. This was
owing to a moitification tie high-spiiited actress experienced.
A dispute arose between her and Mrs. Oldfield as to which
would do best in comedy, and this was so warmly contested
that it was agreed to refer the decision to the town The
two ladies accordingly acted a comedy part — ^Mrs Buttle — >
m succession, and the judges inclined to Mrs. Oldfield This,
with giving the preference to that lady in the matter of a
benefit, so affronted Mrs Bracegirdle that she determined to
withdraw altogether from the stage

The stage, perhaps, never produced four such handsome
women at once as Mrs Barry, Mrs Bracegirdle, Mrs. Mount-
fort, and Mrs. Bowman When they appeared together in the
last scene of The Old Bachelor, the audience was struck
with so fine a group of beauties

Tony Aston has left a sketch of her, full of pleasing, even
fascinating touches, showing a wonderful power of discrimina-
tion in a buffoon of so gross a description. Goes on Aston :

Mrs Bracegirdle, that Diana of the stage, hath many
places contending for her birth The most received opinion
is that she was the daughter of a coachman, coachmaker, or

H 2

44

A KEW HISTOET OF THE ENOLISH STAGE

letter-out of coaches in Noithampton But I am inclinable
to my father's opinion (who had a great value for her reported
virtue), that she was a distant relative, and came out of Staf-
fordshire, from about Walsall or Wolverhampton, She was
very shy of Lord Lovelace's company, as being an engaging
man, who dreste well , and, as every day his servant came to
her, to ask how she did, she always returned her answer in
the most obeisant words and behaviour, That she was in-
different well, she humbly thanked his lordship " She was
of a lovely height, with dark-brown hair and eyebrows, black
sparkling eyes, and a fresh blushy complexion , and, when-
ever she exerted herself, had an involuntary flushing in her
breast, neck, and face, having continually a cheerful aspect,
and a fine set of white even teeth , never making an exit but
that she left the audience m an imitation of her pleasant
countenance Genteel comedy was her chief essay, and that
too when in men's clothes, in which she far surmounted all the
actresses of that and this age Yet she had a defect — scarcely
perceptible — viz the right shoulder a little portended, which,
when in men's clothes, was covered by a long or campaign
peruke She was finely shaped, and had very handsome
legs and feet, and her gait or walk was free, manlike, and
modest when in breeches.

The following odd incident occurred to her

Some nobles extolling her, the Duke of Dorset and Lord
Halifax deposited two hundred guineas, and the rest made up
eight hundred, and sent it to her, with encomiums upon her
virtue

She was, when on the stage, diurnally charitable ; going
often into Clare Market, and giving money to the poor un-
employed basket-women, insomuch that she could not pass
that neighbourhood without the thankful acclamations of
people of all degrees ; so that if any person had affronted her
they would have been in danger of being killed directly ; and
yet the good woman was an actress She has been off the
stage these twenty-six years or more, but was alive July 20th,
1747, for I saw her in the Strand, London, then with the
remains of charmmg Bracegirdle.

LEADING ACTRESSES-^OLDFIELD AND POSTER 45

There was another lady of the company, Mrs Monntforij,
whose husband, it will be recollected, perished in the miserable
street scuffle with Lord Mohun She was now Mrs. Ver-
bruggen, having married of that name, who, as

Tony Aston describes him, will salute you next/^

That rough diamond shone more bright than all the artful
polished brilliants that ever sparkled on our stage. He had
the woids peifect at one Tiew, and nature directed ’em into
voice and action, in which last he was always pleasing — ^his
person being tall, well built and clean, only he was a little
in-kneed, which gave him a shambling gait, which was a
carelessness, and became him. When Mr. Betterton played
Brutus with him, then you might behold the grand contest,
Verbruggen wild and untaught or Betterton in the trammels of
construction Nature was so predominant that his second
thoughts never altered his prime performance. In ^^The
Rover, never were more beautiful scenes than between
him and Mis Biacegirdle, in her character of Helena, for
what with Verbiuggen’s untaught airs and her smiling
repartees, the audience weie afiaid they were going off the
stage every moment He was nature without extravagance

But his charming wife kindles Tonyas enthusiasm

She was all art, but dressed so nice, it looked like nature.
There was not a look or motion but what were all designed ;
and these at the same word, period, occasion, incident, were
every night in the same character alike ; and yet all sat
charmingly easy on her Her face, motion, etc changed at
once. But the greatest and usual position was laughing,
flirting her fan, and je ne s^aia with a kind of affected
twitter She was very loath to accept of the part of

Neldon, m Oronooko,^’ and that with just reason, as

being obliged to put on men^s clothes — ^having thick legs
and thighs — hut yet the town (that respected her) com-
pounded and received her with applause; for she was the

most pleasant creature that ever appeared. Adding to these,

that she was a fine fair woman, plump, full featured, her
face of a fine smooth oval, full of beautiful, well-disposed

43

A I^EW HISTOBT OF THE EHG-LISH STAOE

moles on it, and on her neck and breast Whatever she did
was not to be called acting , no, no, it was what she repre-
sented, she was neither more nor less, and was the most easy
actress in the world Her maiden name was Percival.
Melanthe was her masterpiece. She was the best conversa-
tionalist possible; never captious, or displeased at anything
but what was gross or indecent, for she was cautious lest
fiery Jack should so resent it as to breed a quarrel For
he would often say • “ Bammee f tho^ I doiiH much value my

wifey yet nobody shall affront her^ by , and his sword was

drawn on the least occasion, which was much in fashion at the
latter end of King William^s reign.

These extracts — from a work little known and scarce —
give a picture of the players of the time

That earliest trial, the assassination of her husband, was
accompanied with yet another ; for her father was tried and
sentenced , and under this affliction she was introduced to
Queen Mary, who being, as she was pleased to say, struck to the
heart upon receiving the petition, granted all that was in her
power — a remission of the execution for transportation But
her father was so weakened by his imprisonment that he was
taken sick on the road and died at Portsmouth

Kor did the adventures of the family end here She left a
daughter, Susanna ; and Mr. Booth, having become one of her
admirers, they were induced, in 1714, to try their fortune
together m the State lottery and share the issue A prize of
BOOQl came up to one of Miss MountforPs tickets, and the
actor was pressed by his friend to claim his half, but he never
could be prevailed on to do so, declaring that it was a mere
verbal agreement, and since it was her own good fortune she
should enjoy it aU However, it happened that she lent, or,
as it was phrased, Mr Booth took charge of a sum of 3200Z
for some years, which, on a quarrel and her selecting another
admirer, he repaid, and a legal release and receipt drawn

LEADma ACTEESSES— OLDFIILE AISTD POETEE 47

up, dated January 21st; 1718, signed in tie presence of six
witnesses, was the unromantic conclusion of this business
Mr Boothes mariiage with the dancer Hester Santlow
followed All the money was soon squandered, and the
unhappy woman was to close her adventurous life in want

Miss Bellamy says she heard this story of Miss Mountfort
told by Colley Cibber himself, down at Bushy, Lord Tyrawley^s
estate .

On her was the ]ustly-celebiated and well-known ballad of
Black-eyed Susan written by Mr Gay Loid Beikeley’s
partiality foi this lady induced him to leave her at his decease
300Z a year, on condition that she never niaiiied. He
likewise purchased Cowley for her, and she besides received
from him at times very consideiable sums. After this
she fell in love with that very capital actor Mr Bootb,
but the desne of retaining her annuity pi evented her from
being ]Oined in the bands of wedlock with the lover whom she
preferred to nninhers that were candidates for her favour.
Mrs Vanhruggen had contracted an intimacy with Miss
Santlow, a lady celebiated as a dancer, and esteemed a
tolerable actress She was the declared favomite of Secietaiy
Ciaggs, through whose liberahty she became possessed of a
fortune sufl&cient to enable her to live independent of tie stage.
What Mrs Vanbruggen could not effect, Miss Santlow did,
Mr Booth, transferring his attention from the former to
the latter, soon obtained possession both of her person and
fortune Mrs. Vanbiuggen no sooner heard of the perfidy of
her lover and the ingratitude of her friend, than she gave way
to a desperation that deprived her of her senses. In this
situation she was brought from Cowley to London, that the
best advice might be procured for her. As during the most
violent paroxysms of her disoider she was not outrageous, and
now and then a ray of leason beamed through the cloud that
overshadowed hei intellects, she was not placed under any
rigorous confinement, but suffeied to go about the house.
One day, duimg a lucid interval, she asked her attendant wbat
play was to be performed that evening, and was told that it
was Hamlet.^' In this piece^ while she had been on the

48

A HEW HISTOEY OF THE EHOLISH STAGE

stage, she had always met with great applause in the character
of Ophelia. The recollection struck her, and, with that canning
which IS usually allied to insanity, she found means to elude
the care of her servants, and got to the theatre, where, con-
cealing herself till the scene m which Ophelia was to make her
appearance in her insane state, she pushed on the stage before
her iival, who played the character that night, and exhibited
a far more perfect representation of madness than the utmost
exertions of mimic art could do She was, in truth, Ophelia
herself, to the amazement of the performers as well as of the
audience Nature having made this last effort, her vital
powers failed her On her going off, she prophetically ex-
claimed, “It IS all over * and, indeed, that was soon the case,
for as she was conveying home (to make use of the concluding
lines of another sweet ballad of Gay^s, wherein her fate is so
truly described), “ She, like a lily drooping, then bowed her
head and died.^^

Another cutic and actor^ whose style was characteristic, and
whom we have often quoted, was Tony Aston, who may be thus
amusingly introduced by the prompter Ohetwood

This person, Mr Antony Aston,* commonly called Tony,
was bred an attorney in England, but having a smattering of
wit and humour he left the study of the law for parts on the
stage He strained forth a comedy which was acted on the
theatre in Smock Alley, called ^^Love in a Hurry,^^ but
with no success He played in all the theatres in London, but
never continued long in any , his way of living was peculiar to
himself and family, resoiting to the principal cities and towns
in England with his “ Medley as he called it, which consisted
of some capital scenes of humour out of the most celebrated
plays His company were generally composed of his own
family — himself, his wife, and son; between every scene a
song or dialogue of his own composition filled up the chinks of
the slender meal. He pretended a right to every town he

* “ Tony Aston,” published about 1750 Hr Eeed writes in his copy, m 1795
Thongh I have possessed this pamphlet twenty -five years, it is remarkable
that I have never seen another copy of it ” The author of the present work
has seen one

LEA^Dma AOTEESSES-OLDFIELD Am POETEE 49

enteied, and if a company came to any place wliere lie ex-
hibited Ins compositions, he would use all his art to evacuate
the place of these interlopers as he called them. He was never
out of his way , for if he met with a sightly house when he
was itinerant, he would soon find the name, title, and circum-
stances of the family, curry them over with his humorous
veise, and by that means get something to bear his charges
to his next station His finances, like those of kingdoms,
wei e sometimes at the tide of flood, and as often at low ebb
In one, where his stream had left the channel dry, yet ready
to launch out on a trading voyage without a cargo oi provisions,
he called up his landlord, to whom there was something due,
told him of his losses in his present voyage, and being sent for
to another place, desired he would lend him a small sum upon
his wardrobe (which he showed him in a large box), ten times
the value of the debt owing or the sum borrowed. The honest
landloid, seeing a proper security, easily complied, gave him
the sum demanded, looked up the trunk, put the key m his
pocket, and letired But as no vessel can make a voyage
without sails and other proper mateiials, he had contiived a
false bottom to this great box, took out the stuffing, and, by
degrees, sent off his wardiobe by his emissaries unperceived
And that the weight should not detect him^ he filled up the
void with cabbage- stalks, bricks and stones cloathed in rags
to pi event moving, when the vehicle was to be taken the next
moinmg into the landlord's custody Everything succeeded to
his wish, and away went Tony, but far wide of the place he
mentioned to mine host. I only mention this little story to let
the reader know the shifts the itinerant gentiy are sometimes
put to For Tony, when his finances weie in order, and cnied
of the consumption, honestly paid him. I have had this tale
both from Tony and the landlord, who then kept the Black Boy
Inn at Chelmsford in Essex

If Tony by chance ever came to a town wheie a company
of showmen (as people oft call them) had got in before him, he
piesently declared war with them, and his geneial conditions
of peace were that they should act a play for his benefit, that
he might leave the siege and march with his small troop to
some other place And as he was a peison of humour, and a
proper assurance, he genei'ally, hke a cat, skimmed off the fat

60 A 2;TEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

creain and left the lean milk to those that stayed behind I
believe he is tiavelling still, and is as well known in every town
as the post-horse that carries the maiL

Yet this eminent joker, thus happily touched, could himself
portiay the characteis of other members of his craft

Tony Aston, from Bath, most humbly gives notice to the
quality and gentry that he hath brought to town, from
Wales, an admirable curiosity, viz a mock voice, never heard in
London before He imitates with his voice domestic animals,
as cocks, hens, ducks, turkey cocks and turkey hens, swans,
horses, dogs, also ravens, lapwings, sea-fowl, sheep, lambs,
bulls, cows, cats, etc , and that too after a comical manner,
following them through their different passions, as surpiise,
fear, anger, etc , in their eating, walking, converse To be
heaid at The Globe and Duke of Marlborough^s Head Tavern,
in Fleet Street, at a minute^s warning, from nine in the
morning till nine at night. Any person of quality, or others,
may command him to their house, etc , by sendmg word to the
place above

Note — ^Tony Aston^s medley, consisting of select parts of
comedies, new songs, prologues, Mr PurcelEs, and other
comical English dialogues, is performed eveiy Monday,
Wednesday, and Friday, at the place above, beginning at six
o^clock Pit Is 6d Being new last night.

A good idea of these clowns on the stage and buffoons off
it, maybe gatheied from the account of Joe Tiefusis

Mr Joseph Trefusis was the original Trapland in “ Love for
Love,^^ and a well-esteemed low comedian (a theatrical term to
distinguish that branch fiom the genteel), and was famous for
dancing an awkward country clown He was an experienced
angler. As he was fishing by the Liffy side, some friends of his
were going in a boat in order to embark for England Jo
seeing them, called to them to take him in that he might see
them safe on board. He gave his fishing-rod to a friend on
shore to take care of tiE his return , but Jo, it seems, was

LEADING AOTEESSIS—OLDEIELD AND POETER 51

prevailed npon by lus companions to make the journey to
London with, them, with, his fisbmg-clotlies upon his back,
not a second shirt, and but 7s. in his pocket His com-
panions left bim in London, and Mr. Wilks found bim. gazing
at the dial in the square of Covent Garden. He hardly knew
him at first (as Mr Wilks told me) but by his paiticular gait,
which was beyond imitation When he asked him how he came
there, and in that pickle ^^Hum ^ ha * why, faith, Bobby/^
replied Jo, only came from Dublin to see what it was a
clock at Oovent Garden ” However, Mr Wilks new clothed him,
supplied him with money, and sent him back, as mentioned in the
above letter, before he received Mr Ashbuiy’s letter to supply
him

Jo was so inimitable m dancing the clown, that General
Ingoldsby was so well pleased that he sent him five guineas
from the box where he sat Jo dressed himself the next day,
and went to the castle to return thanks. The general was
hard to be persuaded it was the same person ^ but Jo soon
convinced him by saying, Ise the ver*y mon, and please your
Excellency, and at the same time twirling his hat, as he did
in the dance, with his consummate foolish face and scrape
^^hTay, now I am convinced, leplied the geneiul, laughing,
and thou shalt not show such a face for nothing here — so
gave Jo five guineas moie, which so well pleased hum, that he
paid his compliments m his awkwaid clownish manner, and,
as Shakespeaie says, set the table on a roar So exit Jo.

CHAPTEE lY.

CLOSE OF THE CIBBER^ BOOTH, AOT WILKS MAKAGEMENT.

Ih the year 1731, Dxury Lane witnessed the production of a
capital stock-play, George BarnwelV^ by Lillo This
author was a London ]eweller, who was strongly attached to
the Muses, yet seemed to have laid it down as a maxim, that
the devotion paid to them ought always to tend to the
promotion of virtue, religion, and moiality/’ Notwithstanding
this proper principle, he had some eccentricity or simple-
mindedness.

Towards the latter part of his life (says Mr. Davies, his
editor), Mr Lillo, whether from judgment or humour, deter-
mined to put the sincerity of his friends, who pi’ofessed a very
high regard for him, to a trial. He asked one of his intimate
acquaintance to lend him a considerable sum of money, and
for this he declared he would give no bond, nor any other
security except a note of hand The person to whom he
applied, not liking the terms, civilly lefused him

Soon after, Lillo met his nephew, Mr Underwood, with
whom he had been at variance for some time. He put the same
question to him, desiring him to lend him money upon the
same terms. His nephew, either from a sagacious apprehen-
sion of his uncle’s real intention, or from generosity of spirit,
immediately offered to comply with his request. Lillo was so
well pleased with this ready compliance of Mr. Underwood,

THE CIBBEE, BOOTH, AHD WILKS MAKAOIMEHT 53

tliat lie immediately declared tliat lie was fully satisfied witH
Lim^ and made him his heir

When the day of peiformance arrived, the critics and other
enemies, heaiing that the play was founded on an old hallad
of the name, went and purchased it, and took it with them
to the theatre, meaning to compare it, but it was found so
pathetic that they had to drop their ballad to use their hand-
kerchief instead It was said that thousands of the ballads
were sold, and Mr Wilks, at the request of the Queen, carried
down the MS to Hampton Court, for Her Majesty^s perusal
It was acted twenty nights running to crowded houses, and in
the hottest season of the year It is, in truth, an interesting
and pathetic play, and, if acted by pei formers of dignity and
pathos, would now hold audiences * As stated before, it
came to be selected as the standing performance for Boxing-
night, when London appi entices, having a holiday to go to
the theatre, might leceive awful warning as to the fate of
those who rob their masteis t lu connection with this, Ross,
the actor, related the following curious expeiience

In the year 1752, duiing the Christmas holidays, I played
George Barnwell, and the late Mrs Pritchard played Milwood.
Dr. Barrowby, physician to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, told
me he was sent for by a young gentleman m Great St Helen’s,
apprentice to a very capital merchant He fonnd him very ill
with a slow fever, a heavy hammer pulse, that no medicine
could touch The nurse told him he sighed at times so very
heavily, that she was sure something lay heavy on his mmd.
After much solicitation on the part of the doctor, the youth
confessed there was something lay heavy at his heart. After

* It was lately revived by Mr Hollingsliead, with the view, as he coafessed,
o£ ndicaling what he drolly styled ‘‘the palmy day pieces” Bat even under
such conditions, and though indifferently acted, it was hard to resist its genuine
pathos

t This device has occurred to some of our modern managers — ^witness the
tale of “ The Eepentant Jochey,” placarded at length to mdnce the pubhc to
visit some sporting drama

54

A HISTOEY OF THE EHOLISH STAGE

tEis, lie told the doctor lie was the second son to a gentleman
of good fortune in Hertfordshire, that he had made an
acquaintance with a mistress of a captain of an Indiaman^
then abroad , that he was within a year of being out of his
time, and had been intrusted with cash, drafts, and notes,
which he had made free with, to the amount of 200?.
That going two or thiee nights before to Drury Lane,
to see Eoss and Mrs Pritchard, in their characters of
George Barnwell and Milwood, he was so forcibly struct, he
had not enjoyed a moment^s peace since, and wished to die, to
avoid the shame he saw hanging over him The doctor asked
where his father was. He replied he expected him there
every minute, as he was sent for by his master upon his being
taken so very ill The doctor desired the young gentleman to
make himself perfectly easy, as he would undeitake his father
should make all right, and, to get his patient in a promising
way, assured him, if his father made the least hesitation, he
should have the money of h%m. The father soon ai rived.
The doctor took him into another room, and, after explain-
ing the whole cause of his son^s illness, begged him to save the
honour of his family and the life of his son. The father,
with tears in his eyes, gave him a thousand thanks, said
he would step to his banker and bring the money While
the father was gone. Dr Barrowby went to his patient, and
told him everything would be settled m a few minutes, to his
ease and satisfaction , that his father was gone to his banker
for the money, and would soon return with peace and forgive-
ness, and never mention or even think of it more. What is
very extiaordinary, the doctor told me, that in a few minutes
after he communicated this news to his patient, upon feeling
of his pulse, without the help of any medicine, he was quite
another creature. The father returned with notes to the
amount of 200Z , which he put into the son^s hands — they
wept, kissed, embraced. The son soon recovered, and lived to
be a very eminent merchant. Dr. Barrowby never told me
the name , but the story he mentioned often in the green-
room of Drury Lane Theatre ; and, after telling it one night
when I was standing by, he said to me: ^^Tou have done
some good in your profession, more, perhaps, than many a
clergyman who preached last Sunday — ^for the patient told

THE CIBBEE, BOOTH, AHD WILHS MAHAGEMEHT 55

tlie doctor the play raised sucli honor and contrition in his
soul, that he would, if it would please God to raise a friend to
extricate him out of that distress, dedicate the lest of his
life to religion and virtue. Though I never knew his name,
or saw him to my knowledge, I had for nine or ten years, at
my benefit, a note sealed up, with ten guineas, and these
words " tribute of g'tatitude fioin one who ivas highly
obliged and saved fom hy seeing Mr Boss’s performance
of Barnwell ” — I am, dear sir, yours truly,

David Ross,

Hampstead, 20th August, 1787.

There is a list of the salaiies given to the chief performers
Tinder this management for the year 1729 *

Booth and Wilks had each a fouith of the profits, amount-
ing to lOOOZ , besides lOZ a week for management. The others
had as follows

Wilks, for acting and management . • . 753 6 8

Clear benefit ... • • . 60 0 0

Mrs Oldfield, 12 guineas a week to end of April 420 0 0

Benefit . . . . 60 0 0

A present . ... 42 10 0

Mrs Porter, salary . . . . 266 1 0

Clear benefit , . . . . 60 0 0

Mills, sen 200 0 0

Benefiit , 60 0 0

Thurmond . , , . , . • 166 0 0

A benefit paying 40Z 20 0 0

£3746 13 4

At last, however, this favoured era was to come to an end,
and it IS always curious to note how the decay, as in a Ministry,
invariably comes about , though it is remarkable that, in the
history of every theatre, eras of prosperity and decay seem to
come alternately — in fact, the continued prosperity becomes
monotonous, and, as people were tired of hearmg the good and

56 A ISTEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

pious called justj so they giow indifferent to wiat is really of
merit Even Garrick^s long and successful era was to show
these signs of change.

The first cause that for some years had led the way to
greater, was the continued ill state of health that lendered
Booth incapable of appealing on the stage The next was the
death of Mis Oldfield About the same time too, Mrs Porter,
then 111 her highest reputation for tragedy, was lost to us by
the misfortune of a dislocated limb, fiom the overturning of a
chaise And our last stroke was the death of Wilks, m
September the year following, 1731

Whatever were the causes, our audiences were far less abated
than our apprehensions had suggested It happened that our
surviving fraternity having got some chimeiical, and, as I
thought, unjust notions into then heads, the remaining partner
was natuially anxious to retiie I cbose not, at my time of
day, to entei into new contentions , and, as I found an inclina-
tion in some of them to purchase the whole power of the
patent into their own hands, I did my best, while I stayed
with them, to make it worth their while to come up to my
price, and then patiently sold out my share

The deaths and retiiements alluded to by Oibber, though
the aitists in question had virtually withdrawn from the stage,
were a serious loss. So long as an actor lives, his name, by a
pleasant delusion, seems to lend a sort of help, or p'iestige, to
the stage

During Boothes inability to act, which lasted from 1729 till
his death, 1 733, Wilks was called upon to play two of his parts,
Jaffior, and Lord Hastings in Jane Shore Booth was, at
times, in all other respects except his power to go on the stage,
in good health, and went amongst the players for his amuse-
ment His curiosity diew him to the playhouse on the nights
when Wilks acted these characters, in which himself had
appeared with uncommon lustre. All the world admired Wilks,
except his brother-manager . amidst the repeated bursts of
applause, which he extorted, Booth alone continued silent.

THE CIBBEE, BOOTH, AND WILKS HAEADEMEITT hi

If these anecdotes (says Davies) aie woith perusal, tie
reader owes them to Benjamin Victor, who, many years since,
related them to me.

What a canons picture of theatrical jealousy is here shown I

In the yeai 1727 (says Theo Cihber), early m the acting
season. Booth had been seized with a violent fever, which lasted
forty-six days without intermission He was attended by Dr.
Breind and Dr Broxholm, gentlemen very eminent in their
profession They declared that he was delirious hut two nights
and one day, notwithstanding an ill-natured false report of his
being mad the whole time of his illness An anonymous
biogiapher has informed us (adds Theo m his characteristic
style), in a thing he calls ^^The Life of Booth,^^ that this
gentleman afterwards run mad, and frequently, in his frantic
fits, acted the mock-monarch with his servants, and exercised
an imaginary tyrannic power over them An impudent, im-
pertinent falsehood, ci’ammed in by the author, who, ^tis
probable, had no knowledge of him, but rather than not say
something, would say nothing.

But in 1731 his illness, a most perilous stroke of fate on
the theatre, returned soon after his playing King Henry VIII.
He was then studying the part of Julio in ^‘The Double
Ealsehood ” He rehearsed it several times When the play was
ready for acting, he was prevented appearing m it by a relapse
into his former indisposition. The part was supplied a few
nights by Mr Charles Williams (a promising player, who died
young), to whom Mr. Booth had given the part to study, as
doubting the certainty of his being able to appear in it himself
But, at Mr Theobald^s entreaty, backed by many geutlemea
and ladies, he good-naturedly, but fatally, disregarded his
indisposition, vhich was then an intermitting fever, and acted
that pait from the fifth to the twelfth night, which was, alas !
the last time of his appearance on the stage Duiiog the
course of his illness his fever turned to an inveterate jaundice.
Then Dr. Mead was sent for, by whose advice Mr. Booth went
to Bath, and remained there eleven weeks, but found no
benefit, so returned to London. Three weeks after he em-
barked with his lady for Ostend, fancying the sea-sickness

F

58

A -mW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.

miglit assist in the cuie of his jaundice From Ostend he went
through Flanders to Antwerp, and purposed to make the tour
of Holland, peisonally to consult Dr Boerhaave, to whom Mi
Booth’s case had before been transmitted, but his fever
returned so seveiely that he was confined to his bed almost
every other day, and found himself under a necessity to return
immediately to England He continued a long time m a
dangerous condition He had a succession of violent feveis,
and was often tormented with the most painful cholics. Yet,
during their intermission, his spiiits were lively and his voice
strong His friends had fiequent flattering hopes of his
lecovery, particulaily in the year 1731 On his taking a house
at Hampstead, his fever so much abated he became capable of
leceivmg visits from his fi lends, and entertaining them with his
usual good sense and cheerful politeness But vain were all
their hopes His illness never quite faisook him, his jaundice
appealed again, and a violent periodical cholic haiassed him
for near six months before he died, which was on Tuesday,
May 8th, 1733 About a month before his death there
appeared some symptoms of his recovery , and as I was then
joint manager with him, he would sometimes talk to me of
what characters he purposed to revive in the ensuing season,
and plan other operations for our next winter theatrical
campaign He unhappily was snatched from the stage in the
prime and vigour of life, for, when he last appealed thereon,
he was but in the forty-sixth year of his age He died
possessed of a very large fortune, part in the funds, besides a
good estate in the country, and another in Westminster, which
latter is known by the names of Barton, Booth, and Cowley
Streets By his will he made his widow sole heir and
executrix

Such IS the agreeable, interesting account given by one who
served under him.

Only a short time before his death we find this excellent
player writing a letter, whose singular courtesy and good
feeling shows how worthy he was of the esteem in which he
was held :

THE CIBBEE, BOOTH, AHD WILKS MAHAaEHEHT 59

Sir, — ^When I desired tlie favour of seeing you tins evenings
I Lad forgot that I Lad appointed a gentleman to Lear lis
tragedy read at y® same time A messenger came to me tLis
moinmg to put me in mind of tLe appointment As tLe gentle-
man proposes to Lave Lis play acted (if it be approved of) before
Xmas, I Lope you will excuse my deferiing tLe pleasuie of
bearing youis till to-morrow, or any other day, and Lour, yoa
please to appoint I am downrigLt asLamed of my foi get-
fulness, but if you knew wLat Luriy our tLeatrical affairs Lave
been in of late, you would tLe more readily excuse, sii,

Your most obedient bumble Servant, .

B Booth

Sunday Morning, 6tL LTov, 1732.

Another cause of decay and breaking up in the theatre was
the retirement of Wilks, that good and mucL-admiied player

Nothing is moie pleasing m this history than to find such
a chaiacter as was Wilks, geneious itself and generously appre-
ciated by all who knew him Says his friend Ohetwood

His purse was evei open to pioper objects of chanty, and
I have often seen teais in his eyes at the i elation of any mis-
fortune that befell others He was ever the first pioposer la
any 30 int chanty fiom the theatiical stock, and Iain convinced
has often prevailed upon their unwilling liberality His car©
of the orphan daughters of Mr Barquhar, in giving them
several benefit-plays, continued to the last of Lis days, and in
losing Lim tLey Lave in reality lost a father, but I hope Lis
constant stream of bounty has placed them above want In
short, his private acts of cLarity are numberless.

An Irish gentleman, who fell into distress, came to tLe
tLeatre with a play which was read and returned, ^^with desire
to make some alterations for the next season This postponing
but ill agreed with our author’s ciicumstances, that loudly
called for a speedy supply. Mr Wilks, knowing the ill state
of his finances, bought a night of his brother-managers and

F 2

60

A NEW HISTOEY OF THE EI^GLISH STAGE

gave it to Mr. Smitli for a benefit Yet be did not tbmk that
suflicient, but used all bis interest to make it truly a benefit,
and put a hundred guineas clear in tbe autbor^s pocket, witb
wbicb be took leave of bis benefactor Going abroad to study
medicine under Boerbaave, tbat physician sent him to Eussia to
tbe emperor, at whose court be flourished. In a gay manner
bis benefactor, describing bis success, says

Captain Powlett will bring you a few furrs, with a small
quantity of ermin, tbe product of Eussia Were I settled in
Greenland I should do tbe same, and land you a whale or a
white bear. You will receive them without any otbei weight
but themselves But who gave me these funs ^ this affluence^
tins royal mistress ^ this happy situation ^ A man ]ust of
your age and stature If you can^t find him out, ask my dear
and woitby fiiend Sii Harry Wildair, and tell him at tbe same
time tbe grain was his, and the leaper with tbe crop shall ever
be at his command, etc

This great and good man contmued to charm till tbe last
of bis performing on the stage He left this world tbe
27th of Septembei, 1732, and I must declare I have not
yet seen his equal in comedy His disconsolate widow caused
the following inscription to be put on his monument in
St PauFs, Oovent Garden, with the arms of the Wilks
family, which are three roses, and a rose for the crest His
second wife lies also in the same vault, lately deceased

Over him there is this inscription .

Near this Peace

(In hopes of a happy Eesuriection)

Lyes the body of Eobeet Wiles, Esq,

One of the Patentees of bis Majesty’s Tbeatie.

A Man in private Life

This superexcellent comedian, by bis own request, was
interred at twelve o’clock at night, to avoid ostentation
Yet, to pay bis memory tbe greatest honour tbat was ever

THE CIBBER, BOOTH, AND WILKS MAHAaEMEHT 61

done to a subject, tbe gentlemen of tbe cboir belonging to the
King’s Oliapel came voluntaiily and performed an antbeni
prepared for the solemn occasion

Victor, sending to Garrick a print of a picture from Dublin^
says

The only account I can give you of it is, that in the
summei of 1751 I was at Bromsgrove, in Worcestershire,
with an uncle (Mr Thomas Wilkes) , he gave me two pictures,
which were a present to him from our relation, Mr. Eobert
Wilkes, m return for some cider and peiry which he used to
send him almost every summer Mr Wilkes told him they
were a present to him fiom Mr Con gi eve with some others
one was the picture I sent you , the other, a head of Hilton,
with his name and age on it (forty), the painter not known,
which pictuie I gave to the late Alderman Faulkner, and is
now in nephew Todd’s collection. I brought them up to
London, and showed them to the late Mr Ellys, the painter,
who lived in Someiset House, he knew them, and told me
that he heard from Mi Eohert Wilkes that Sir Peter Lely
made a present of four pictuies of his painting to Mrs Brace-
girdle, who gave them to Mr Congreve, and he gave yonis,
Milton’s, a head of Dry den, Sii G. Knellei, etc., to Mr Wilkes ,
the latter Mr Ellys purchased from his widow.

Chetwood adds curious testimony of his double power •

In the fourth act of Macbeth, when he is told by Lenox of
the loss of his wife and children, his mixture of sorrow and
manly grief drew tears from almost every eye, when if lie had
blubbered like a schoolboy whipped, the touching scene would
have laised laughter m the place of grief, and if the best
judges laughed at his parts in comedy, I can’t conceive they
have shed moie tears since his much-lamented death at any of
the above-mentioned plays

Before, however, these events took place, and befoxe Booth’s
death occurred, the prudent managers had foitunately be-
thought them of applying for a renewal of their patent, now
on the eve of expiring. This they obtained without difficulty^

62

A wm HISTOBY OB THE ENGLISH STAGE

It* was made out to Wilks, Cibber, and Booth, and granted
^^for gathering together, forming, entertaining, governing,
privileging, and keeping a company of comedians for His
Majesty’s service The patent was for twenty-one years, from
September

Thus they were fortified with something to dispose of.
Yet this step was not done without contest, and on April 25th
the matter was brought before the court, and the validity
of the new patent was argued before the Lord Chancellor,
Chief Justice Kaymond, and Baron Comyns It was decided
to be a lawful grant, and passed the Great Seal It is curious
to note how little time was allowed to elapse before turning
this to profit.

The accident that deprived the manageis of Mrs Porter^s
services at such a moment was truly an unfortunate one

She lived at Heywood Hill, near Hendon After the play
she went home in a one-horse chaise, hei constant companions
were a book and a brace of horse-pistols In the summer of
1731, as she was taking the air in her one-horse chaise, she
was stopped by a highwayman, who demanded her money.
She had the courage to present one of her pistols to him The
man, who perhaps had only with him the appeaiance of fiiearms,.
assured her that he was no common thief, that robbing on the
highway was not to him a matter of choice but necessity, and in
order to relieve the wants of his poor distressed family , and
told her such a melancholy story that she gave him all the
money in her purse, which was about ten guineas The man
left her , upon this she gave a lash to the horse, he suddenly
started out of the track and the chaise was overthrown , this
occasioned the dislocation of her thigh-bone She made strict
inquiry after the robber, and finding that he had not deceived
her, she raised among her acquaintances about 60Z, which
she took care to send him. Such an action in a person

* I hme not seen the original patent, bat these extracts aie set out m the
Case of the Patentees,” 1733

THE CIBBER, BOOTH, AHD WILKS MAKACEHENT

of Ligh. rank would kaye been celebrated as something gi eat
and heroic, the feeling mind will make no distinction betvreeu
the generosity of an actress and that of a princess

She was biought foiward by Betteiton^ who had noticed
her cleyeiness Like Oldfield, she was welcomed in fashion-
able society, but she was of grave imposing manner Davies
saw her act, and describes her as ^^the genuine successor of
Mrs Barry, whose theatrical page she had been when very
young When the scene was not agitated with passion, to the
general spectator she did not give equal pleasure , her recita-
tion of fact or sentiment was so modulated as to resemble
musical cadence lathei than speaking, and this rendered her
acting somewhat cold and ineffectual. Where the passion
predominated she exerted her powers She was tall, and well
shaped, but not handsome, and of a fair complexion, eleYating
herself above all peisonal defects by her exquisite judgment
But her action was enfeebled by a dislocated hip Slie was
enthusiastic in piaise of young Garrick, though he belonged
to the new school, and lamented her want of youth and vigoui
to exert her skill with so great a genius

“ Mrs Porter outlived her annuity, and in a very advanced
age was principally supported by a very worthy nobleman.
Lord Oornbury, who made her a present of a new comedy, and
permitted her to publish it, for her benefit, by subscription.
She died about the year 1762. When Dr. Johnson, some
years before her death, paid her a visit, she appeared to him.
so wrinkled that he said a picture of old age in the abstract
might be taken from her countenance Mrs. Porter lived
for some time with Mrs Cotterell, lelict of Colonel Cotterell,
and Mis Lewis, who, I believe, now resides in the Circus at
Bath

The diligent Davies adds that the anecdotes relating to
Mrs Porter were communicated to me by an elderly gentle-

64

A l^EW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

woman^ lately dead, an acquaintance of Dr Johnson, who
often visited her, by one who was a frequenter of the theatres
for near sixty years , and others

It was about that time of her life when I first saw her ;
when ^^The Careless Husband was acted by those thiee
excellent peiformeis, the theatre might be 3 ustly called the
school of politeness, where persons of the fiist rank might
have learned such behaviour as would have added to their
dignity Mrs Oldfield died in October, 1730. Her loss sat
the heaviest on Mr Wilks, who, by their playing so long
together in our best comedies, very happily suppoited that
humour and vivacity which is so peculiar to our English
stage Wilks chose the late Mrs Horton to supply her loss
Millamont, in ^^The Way of the World, was the fiist part,
and my intimacy with him at that time gave me an oppor-
tunity to be assured she acquitted herself in that character to
his satisfaction In that and Estifania she was generally
allowed to be the only copy that could lemmd us of that
excellent original

It must be confessed this actress was undei the almost
insurmountable disadvantage of a plain person and a bad
voice She had naturally a tender voice, which was enlarged
by laboui and practice into sufficient force to fill the theati e ,
but by that means that tremor was contracted which was a
singularity that nothing but custom could leconcile, and yet,
being blest with a good understanding and a good ear, she
made herself a complete mistiess of her art She acquired an
elevated dignity in her mien, and threw out a spirited pro-
priety m all characteis of rage, but when grief and tender-
ness possessed her she subsided into the most affecting
softness. The truth of this lemark was manifested by the
Hermione and Belvidera which she performed many years
with great applause This actress had also the singular
happiness of preserving her reputation in private life I hear
she is yet living, and enjoying the sweets of that felicity.

CHAPTER T,

COVENT GARDEN THEATRE.

We are now arrived at one of tlie important eras in theatrical
history, when a new theatre was to be established, destined to
share with that of Diury Lane the increasing pablic interest in
the drama The situation chosen was within view of the other,
and the iivalry was likely to prove dangerous Drury Lane
was now an old and old-fashioned house, also a first expeii-
ment m theatre building, so there was ample room for a new
experiment, guided by taste and enterprise These Rich, who
came of a clever, speculative, and energetic family, was ready
to supply. The first step was to find the money ; but this
was a matter of no diflBculty In January, 1731, we learn
that a subscription to aid Mr Rich in building a new theatre
m Covent Garden, amounting to 6000/ , was subscribed. It
was to be speedily begun by that ingenious architect, James
Shepherd, Esq, his draught bemg very much approved
of already The theatre in Lincoln^s Inn Fields it was pro-
posed to sell to the Commissioners of Stamps for a new
office

Almost at once the undertaking was commenced, and the
progress of the woikmen watched with much curiosity. By
July it had been pushed forward with great energy, and

A HEW HISTORY OF THE IHOLISH STAGE

numbers of the nobihty resorted thither daily to look on at
the works In September an accident occuried as they were
raising one of the beams for the roof , one man was killed and
others much injured. But^ it may be conceived, this promise
of success must have alarmed the rival house. As we have
seen, on the death of Steele a new licence was readily obtained.
His patent, by its terms, was to run for three years after his
death, and these were now expiring. Application was now
made for a new patent, which was secured But not
unnaturally, Rich, conceiving this was a good opportunity to
leopen the question of interference with his old patent, came
to the Oouit of Chanceiy to oppose them It was solemnly
aigued before the Loid Chancellor, the Chief Justice Ray-
mond, and Mr Baron Comyns It was decided to be a lawful
grant, and accordingly passed the Great Seal This turned
out fortunately for one of the paitners, who, as we shall see,
in July, disposed of his share to Mr Highmore, a fashionable
amateur

But there was more dangerous opposition still for the new
enterprise We shall see presently how successful was to be
a 'throwster in his temporary theatre at the Bast End
This had drawn such crowds, that he was emboldened to
establish a more ambitious undertaking. This prosperity was
owing to his assistant, for he himself, as Chetwood tells us,
not understanding the management, left it to Giffard, who
did. He issued proposals for a subscription for thiity-two
shares, the holders to receive Is 6d each acting night, with a
free admission, while as a security the ground was to be
handed over to them as mortgagees. The sum of 2300Z. was
subscribed, on which, not without serious opposition from the
ground was seemed in Aykffie Street, from Sir W Leman,
on lease for sixty-one years, and at a rent of 45Z Here a
handsome though small theatre was speedily completed, and

COYENT GrAUDm THEATRE

67

opened on October 2nd, 1732 The decorations, in the flond
style, were the theme o£ great praise.

Meanwhile the new Oorent Garden Theatre was being
pushed on, and was now neaily completed. In scenery and
decoiations it was determined to excel all preceding efforts.
Haivey and Lambeit — who aie mentioned as if their names
weie a sufficient guaiantee of excellence — were busily engaged
painting scenes, while Signor Amiconi, an aitist in the florid
Lagueire style, and who gained a reputation by decorating the
staircase of Loid Tankerville^s house m St Jameses Square, was
painting the proscenium with a gorgeous apotheosis, in which
Apollo and other appropriate divinities £gmed**= The house

* Ricli’s “ Grloiy,** or his Tnumphanfc Entry into Covonfe Grarden Tins
print alludes to the removal of Rich and his scenery, authors, actors, etc ,
fiom the playhouse m Lincoln’s Inn Fields to Covent Garden, and might
theicforo be as piobably rcfeired to the year 1783, ■svhen that event happened
The scene is Covent Garden, across which, leading towards the door of the
theatre, is a long procession, consisting of a cart loaded with thunder and
lightning, actors, etc , and at the head of which is Rich, invested with the
skin of the famous dog in “ Perseus and Andromeda,” riding with a lady m a
chariot diiven by Hailequm, and drawn by satyrs, or yahoos The verses at
the bottom of this plate explain the artist’s meaning

Not with more glory through the streets of Rome,

Return’d great conquerors in triumph home,

Than, proudly diawn with beauty by his side,

We see gay Rich in gilded chariot ride
He comes, attended by a num’rous throng.

Who, with loud shouts, huzza the chief along
No sensible and pretty play will fall ®

Condemn’d by him as not theatrical
The playeis follow, as they here are nam’d,

Dress’d m each charactei for which they are fam’d
Quin, th’ old bach’lor, a hero Ryan shows,

Who stares and stalks majestic as h© goes

^ No sensible and pretty play,” etc “This,” says Iieland, “lefeis to
Cibber’s decision on the merits of some piece offered for representation ” la
a copy of verses addressed to Rich on the building of Covent Gaiden Theatre,
are the following Imes, which seem to allude to the rejection already mentioued.
Poets no longer shall submit then plays
To learned Cibbei’s gilded withei’d bays.

To such a judge the laboui’d scene present,

Whom sensible and pietty won’t content

A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.

held^^ about 2001 Fiom tbe stage to tbe back of tbe boxes
was about fifty-one feet, while tbe sitting accommodation only
allowed twenty-one inches for each person, though two feet is
the least space that ofEers comfort.

There was anothei leason which would dispose the patentees
to think that their pioperty was to be depieoiated Tins large
and important theatre, which had for some time back been
rismg, was thus planned by Rich. It had two entrances by
long covered passages — one from Bow Street, the other from
the Piazza in Oovent Garden, where was a handsome arched
doorway with Ionic columns. Some time ago was shown
an order for the new theatre on the fourth night after the
opening Mr Wood, — Let two ladies into the front boxes
^The Oiphans ^ — Youis, John Rich

One would have thought that nothing would be less likely
to float down the stream of time than a pit or galleiy ticket ,
yet theie have been collectors who continue to secuie some
even of the time of Ghailes the Second Some yeais ago there
was shown a counter of admission to the Queen^s Theatre,
about the size of a penny On one side was the head of the
Queen, prettily engraved, and the words, Queen^s Theatre ,
on the other, For the Pit 1684 This was made of copper.
For the Duke^s Theatre one side was marked, Uppei Gallerie,
1667^^ On the other, a pretty device of a coionet over a
monogram

As it will be interesting to know something of the Giieves
and Telbins of those days, we may turn to the lecoid of a
very accurate obseiver, whose memory stretched over many
years, and who seems to have met in his day many important
personages

Monsieur Devoto, a Fienchman, though of Italian parents,
several yeais after was appointed scene-painter by Mr Rich,

C07E2sT GAEDEN THEATRE

60

for his theatie in Lincoln’s Inn Fields He was also employed
to paint the scenery and decorations at the theatre in Goodman’s
Fields

Amiconi, however, had contributed his tasteful talents to
the improvement of the scenery of the Opera House m the
eailier part of the eighteenth century , and I remember having
heard that nothing had been seen equally splendid and imposing,
with this department of stage effect, in England, before this
epoch — one, indeed, when Handel and Bononcini composed the
music for the opera, and Faimelli and the rival goddesses
Faustina and Cuzzoni excited that memorable civil war ^twixt
Tweedle-dim ” and Tweedle-dee ” This Amiconi, together
with Farinelh and Bononcini, came to England in the same
vessel, and arrived in London m the same carriage, when, in
spite of all opposition, the influence of these musicians obtained
for their fiiend and compatriot artist the envied appointment
of principal scene-painter to this theatre His singular
abilities, it seems, merited this preferment, although those
employed before were sufficiently moi tified at the success of
this foreign iival

His piofessional employment, however, was not confined to
the Opel a House, Rich, on his lemoval to the new theatre at
Covent Gai den, when he quitted Lincoln’s Inn, engaged him
conjointly with the celebrated Geoige Lambeit, the founder of
the Beefsteak Club, m preparing the scenery for this new
stage It is not generally known that the ceiling of this
theatre was magnificently painted and decorated with groups
of heathen deities, amusing themselves and banqueting in the
clouds Amiconi, moreover, designed the plafond to that
magnificent staircase at Buckingham House, which has been
removed m the recent alterations of that royal residence

Mr Gngnion once sent to Dibdin, with some theatrical
curiosities, a facsimile ordei for two to the boxes, in Mr. RicVs
handwiiting, and some notes on the residences of actors at
this time .

You will see, sir, that Covent Garden was then the emporium
of the arts and sciences, and the residence of the chief nobility

70

A NEW HISTOBY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE.

o£ the kingdom My late dear grandfather’s cordial friend,
the celebrated Baiton Booth, lived in Charles Stieet, No 4,
Colley Oibber lived m No 8 , and Easty’s Hotel was Mr
Garrick^s , Mi s Oldfield lived in Southampton Street ,
Wilks built the house in Bow Street, next door but one to
the theatre, Ganick and Macklin lodged in it.

By November, 1732, the papers alluded to ^^the new
theatre in Covent Garden as being completely finished,” and
spoke of its approaching opening on the 27th At last, on
December 7th, it was opened, and it was significantly announced
that it was under the dormant patent granted by Charles the
Second to Sir W Davenant. Aaion Hill, in a letter to Pope,
written in May, 1733, also states that this was the patent
under which Mr Eich was acting I have almost foigot what
I told you of the patent, but at the time I told it I could not
well be mistaken, having ]ust then had the account from
Mr. Davenant, the envoy. Indeed, I fancy it was only of his
ancestors^ patent that he spoke, unless Sir W. Davenant
bought up Killigrew’s I know no way of coming to the
knowledge of this affair, Mr Davenant being now abioad, and
I know not where

On account of the great demand for places, the pit and
boxes weie laid together at 5s , and, to prevent the scenes being
crowded, admission to the stage was IO 5 &d

The bill set out By the company of comedians will be
revived ^The Way of the Woild,’ the clothes, scenes, and
decorations entirely new , but on account of the great demand
for places, the pit and boxes, by desiie, will be laid together
at 5s , gallery, 2s.; upper galleiy. Is , and to prevent the scenes
being crowded, the stage, 10s. fid All persons who want
places are desired to send to the stage-door (the passage from
Bow Street leadmg to it), where attendance will be given and
places kept for the following nights as usual/^

COYEOT QAEDEN THEATRE

71

The paits were thus cast Mirabel, Ryan^ Eainall, QuiU;
Witwood, Chapman , Petulant, Neale, Sir Wilful, Hippesley,
Waitwell, Pinkethman , Lady Wishfort, Mrs Eggletoii, Milla-
mont, Mrs Youngei j Marwood, Mrs Hallam ; Mrs Pamall,
Mrs Buchanan , and Foible, Mrs Steevens, who was later to
become the managei’s wife Quin was a judicious speaker of
FamalFs sentiments, but lieayy in action and deportment,
Walker, who succeeded him, understood and espiessed the
assumed spirit and real insolence of this artful character much
better, Ryan was gieatly inferior to the accomplished Mirabel
of Wilks , and Ohapman^s Witwood, though not so finished as
that of Colley Cibber, was of his own di awing, and very comic.
It was agreed that eveiything about the theatre was mag-
nificently appointed.

Such was the report of Tom Davies, who would appear to
have assisted at the opening of Covent Garden, for he was
much impressed by this worthy display, which was likely to
bring aid to the cause of legitimate drama

Thus ended the long series of perfoimances at Lmcolii^s
Inn Fields under the diiection of John and Christopher
Mozei Rich, whose company had acted all kinds of enteitain-
ments with considerable success from September 28th, 1723,
to December 5th, 1732. They had held the theatre from 1714
to 1732, a period of over eighteen years.

CHAPTER VI

HIGHMOEB AS MANAGER

One of the features of every dramatic era is the craze for
management with which young men of fashion or wealth have
been seized This is kindled by the sense of importance or of
authority over a number of persons of all kinds and characters,
not to be secured otherwise It is always fascinating There
has, indeed, been a hue of these impesaiios down to our own
time whose fate has in most cases been disastrous, their
unskilled and ignorant management being no more than a
gulf that swallowed up them and their fortunes. A young
man about town had been induced to make a wager of a
hundred guineas that he would appear on the stage and
perfoim Lothario This he did, and succeeded in winning his
wager, and this success seems to have drawn him still
nearer to the stage. His name was Highmore. This gentle-
man was induced to offer to purchase Mr Boothes influence
in the theatre. He agreed to give the large sum of 2500? for
only one-half his share, but requirmg the whole of his powers
By this time the widow of Wilks had deputed her control to
Mr Ellys,or Ellis. Themterference of these two inexperienced
persons justly gave offence to the old manager, who withdrew,
leaving, however, his eccentric son as his deputy. On July

HIGHMOEE AS MANAGER

73

SOtlij 1732jit was announced that Mr Bootli had sold his stare
to John Highmore^ of Hampton Court.

But few incidents distinguished the remaining period of
this expiring management

We have noted that the managers, not long befoie their
retiiement, succeeded in getting a renewal of their patent for
twenty-one yeais Oibher does not touch on the immediate
causes of the bieak up, nor mention that Booth had disposed of
his shaie of the patent Victor, who had been now for many
years intimate with the managers, tells us the stoiy fully

It was natural (he says) for a man who, like Booth, had
contracted a love for money, to turn his thoughts upon a
puichasei, and the following lucky accident presented itself.
Just before the death of Mr Wilks, the late John High-
moie, Esq , a gentleman possessed of an estate of 80OZ a year,
offered himself (by way of frolic for one night) to play the pait
of Lothario, piompted to that extravagance by a wager at
Whitens of lOOZ , which he had made with the late Loid Limeiick.
The managers readily accepted the proposal, and, besides the
benefit of the greatest receipt they had ever known to a stock-
play (as the stage was crowded), Mr Highmore made them a
present of the rich suit he made up for the character There are
many persons now living, who saw him on the stage, can bear
witness with me, that this unhappy gentleman had not one
requisite for an actoi, and yet if his vanity would have suffered
him to have ended his frolic with his first night^s performance,
there were numbers of his auditors who would never have been
peisuaded but his acting of Lothario was superior to Booth’s !

, . Mr. Booth, who was a man of quick penetration, soon
fixed his eye upon this gentleman for a purchaser of his share
of the new patent, and from my intimacy with both those
gentlemen I was the person who had the misfortune to be
singled out by Mr. Booth to make the proposal to Mr Highmore
As I then thought it doing a mutual service to both parties,
without the least hesitation (one morning when alone with
him at his own house) I told him Mr Booth had requested me
to inform him of his desire to part with his share of the new

74

A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

patent, by wliicli the purchaser would become a manager and
third sharer with Mr. Cibber and the widow Wilks, who had
]ust then appointed the late Mr. Ellis, the painter, to be her
deputy I well lemember Mr Highmore had no sooner heard
the proposal than he replied “Ah, ah ^ and have they thought
of it at last^ I really expected to have heaid from some of
them on this subject This reply to the proposal will, I hope^
convince my reader that no arguments were necessary to per-
suade him into the purchase. To be brief, an appointment was
then made for an interview with Mr Booth on that business,
at which I was present, and after two or thiee meetings the
large sum of 2500Z was agreed to be paid for one-half only of
Mr Boothes third share of his patent 50001 was demanded
for the whole share Mr Highmore (desirous to be engaged)
thought it safest to purchase only half the share, but bargained
for all the power, as he was to act for Mr Booth in the manage-
ment. As the patentees had^ for the preceding twenty years,
enjoyed such uninterrupted success, and their shares had
amounted to 1500Z , and never less than lOOOZ a year, and as
this was (fortunately for Booth) the first sale that had been
offered, it was no doubt owing to that circumstance alone that
so extravagant a price was given , because in less than twelve
months Mr. Highmore purchased Mr Cibber^s whole third
share for 8000 guineas, which was but 6501 more than
Booth got for his half ^ Thus Mr Highmore paid the sum
of 5650Z. for one share and a half, which was just half the
power of the patent * He should before that have made this
timely and useful resolution, that he advanced that great sum
to buy out the remaining two eminent men, whose abilities in
their profession were the sole cause of the success that
attended their theatre ^ I remember, when BootVs purchase-
money was paid by Mr Highmore, and the transaction publicly
known, Mr Cibber seemed greatly hurt at the thoughts of
meeting Mr. Highmore and Mr. Ellis in the office of managers,
to consult with and settle the business of the theatre , and said,
to avoid the importance of one and the ignorance of the other,
he would have his deputy too, and accordingly invested his son
Theophilus to sit down with those gentlemen in his place, who
wanted nothing but power to be as troublesome as any young
man living However, by his great activity and superior know*

HiaHMORE AS umAQm

75

ledge in tlie business, lie got up a new pantomime entertain-
ment, called '‘The Harlots Progress (a story ]ust then invented
and made popular by that great genius, Hogartli), which was
much approved, and brought a deal of money to the theatre.
By this means Mr Highmore was a gainer at the close of the
season , but that profit, and the disgust he conceived to the
behaviour of young Cibber, deteimined him to treat with the
father for his share of the patent, which second purchase very
soon proved fatal to Mr, Highmore Soon after followed B ootFs
death, and his widow very wisely made the best bargain she
could for her remaining sisth share with Mr Gififard, who
was then master of the new theatre in Goodman's Fields,
for which I have been told she got loOOL This second
purchase of Mr Highmore's was at the commencement of
the season 1733, and m that situation did that gentleman
enter into the second season of his theatrical government, with
only Mr Ellis, as agent for the widow Wilks, to aid and assist
him , for Mr Giffard had at that time a company of his own to
manage at a remote end of the town, and made his purchase in
Drury Lane patent (I heard him say) as a good stake in an
establishment he thought much surei than his own. I believe
I may venture to affirm that two weeks had not passed of
Mr, Highmore's government in the theatre before a revolt began
to show itself among the capital performers, which, I am sorry
to say, was spirited up by Mr. Theophilus Cibber, the son of the
late patentee, who had a few days before received that laige
sum of money for his property there , and so dexterous was
this young captain, that he instantly got all the seniors and
persons of any consequence in the company to enlist under his
banner old Mills, Johnson, Miller, Griffiin, Harper, etc. Mrs.
Heron was at that time at the head of the female list, and lu the
possession of the late Mrs. Oldfield's parts. She, and all the
women, went with the revolters, but the late Mrs. Horton and
Mrs Clive , and the little theatre in the Haymarket was fitted
up and decorated with the greatest expedition, where they
opened with the comedy of Love for Love,^^ to an elegant,
crowded audience The violence of this transaction was at
this juncture so notorious that it immediately threw the whole
town into party ? The friends to the revolters urged that the
actors were a free people, and not to be sold with the patent, as

76

A -mw HTSTOET OF THE El^GLISH STAGE

slaves with a plantation in the West Indies ^ For, it must he
here observed, that there were no articles subsisting between the
managers and actors as has been the custom ever since Mr
Cibber tells us, at page 863 ''We neither asked actors, nor were
we desired by them, to sign any written agieement whatsoever,
the rates of their lespective salaries were only entered in our
daily pay-roll, which plain record everyone looked upon as
good as City secuiity Thus, when Mr Highmore made the
purchase of that large share of the patent, the performers (as
appears above) were free to choose their master, or set up for
themselves, even without a licence, if not contrary to the laws of
the land, and that must hereafter be inquned into I must
own I was heartily disgusted with the conduct of the family of
the Cibbers on this occasion, and had frequent and violent
disputes with father and son whenever we met ^ It appeared,
to me something shocking that the son should immediately
render void and woithless what the father had just received
3150Z for, as a valuable consideration I remember in these
disputes the general observation was, "What business had a
gentleman to make the purchase ^

Highmore seems to have been as reckless and extravagant
as the manager that came after him, and there is a rare etching
of Hogarth^s, portiaymg a sort of practical joke played off at
his expense by his fiiends, and significant of his habits *

During the first season the amateur manager had some
success and a little profit, but this soon fell off Early in 1733
the infatuated Highmore, wishmg to get rid of Theo Cibber,
contracted with his father to buy his share for 3000
guineas As this involved the younger Cibber^s removal —
who, it IS stated in the mock "Apology,^^ had been " farming
his father’s shares — ^it kindled his resentment But there was
yet another change of management, for the widow Wilks
disposed of her share to Mr Giffard. These shiftings boded
no good. Then was to follow the revolt of the principal

* The plate wag suppressed after tea impressions had been taken It is
clear that this suggested a corresponding incident in one of Foote’s dramas

HIGHMORE AS MANAGER.

77

performers, set on by tbe younger Oibbei * Tins revolt ^was a
singular incident, and we once more find the Crown lending
its countenance to tbeir insubordination, for they now obtained
permission to open as The Company of the Revels How
necessary this control was is shown by two incidents that had
occurred lecently In July, 1731, an obnoxious play, ^^The
Fail of Moitimer,^^ was announced to be performed at the
Haymaiket The constables arrived with a warrant to seize
the players, but they escaped. And, in the following yeai,
when the managers of Drury had begun to ornament their
house, the scaffolding raised for redecorating the interior of
Drury Lane was suddenly ordered to be taken down, odeis
being given by the Ooiii t to open forthwith

We now come to one of those scandalous scenes of disorder
and revolt into which the comedians have periodically broken
out, and lu which the public are invited to take sides The air
is filled with cues and darkened with recriminating pamphlets.
The Diary Lane playeis, having lost the three sober and well-
trained directors, soon became disorganised

Highmoie, who was sunk in embarrassments, gave a lease
of his theatre to his own players, which he seems to have
declined to caiiy out They naturally thought of the plan
which has been adopted by so many companies whose managers
have made default — viz to carry on the concern for their own
benefit The patentee would appear to have repented of his

* In a punt, called ‘‘ The Stage Mutiny,” by Lagiieire, the importance of
thib event is shown Theo Cibber, as Ancient Pistol, is seen approaching and
vapouring at the head of a paity of playeis, Mr Heion waves a banner
inscribed “Liberty and Pioperty Highmore shows a scroll on which is writteHj

“It cost 8000Z he is attended by a man without his coat, vho flourishes a
singlestick, and appears eager to fight This may be Ellis, prime minister
and factotum to Highmore Behind Highmore ib the widow Wilks m her
weeds, with her daughter, on her banner is written, We'll sfau'e 'em out"
Behind are a number of persons with asses* ears, and holding spears, etc ,
labelled, ** Possessors of the house,” probably the renters Colley Cibber looks
on, pointing at Highmore, and having money-bags m his lap

78

A NEW HISTORY OF THH ENGLISH STAGE

bargain. Tbis^ joined to some other gneyances^ led to revolt
and discontent.

In one of the scurrilous attacks on Theo Cibber is given
a curious account of the stages of the revolt Speaking in
the cbaiacter of Cibber, junior, the writer thus describes what
took place

On Mr BootVs death the patent became invested as the
property of Mr Highmoie, the widow Booth, and the widow
Wilks The whole company began to murmur at being ruled
by so motley a kind of government as they were now faUmg
under, viz a man who knew nothmg of the business, and two
women unfit for such a province Mr Ellis was indeed deputed
to act for Mrs Wilks, but I believe that did not much better
the affairs. Mr. Ellis, however, became not only a deputy to
Mrs Wilks, but prime minister and factotum to Highmore
This could be no pleasant situation for the other actors, who
had been so many years labourmg in the theatre, and bore the
burthen of the day such as the elder Mills, Mr Johnson,
Miller, Griffin, and some others, who, though younger, had some
claim, as Mills, jun , and myself. I found this an admirable time
to put in execution a design I had planned, which was, at a
proper opportunity, to fling off the yoke and set up for
masters and managers ourselves At length it was resolved, in
a full council of war, that we would encamp at the Haymarket
We accordingly took the house of one Potter, a carpenter, who
was the landlord, bespoke aU our dramatic equipages and
furniture, and held frequent councils to settle the operations of
the ensuing campaign. At the fair of Bartholomew we gained
some recrmts ; but besides those advantages over the enemy I
myself went there in person, and publicly exposed myself This
was done to fling defiance in the patentees’ teeth , for on the
booth where I exhibited, I hung out ^ The Stage Mutiny,^ with
Pistol at the head of his troop, our standard bearing this motto.

HiaHMOEE AS MANAGEB

79

^ We Eat/ In a few days after, the patentees opened with
to winch they added an occasional scene, written
formerly by Sir John Vanbragh, on a piior deseition of actors^
wherein they thought they did great service to the patentees,
and cast a severe reflection on us They next attacked us by
another old, woin-out, ihapsodical affair of one Eieldings, called
^The Authoi^s Farce, ^ in which I and my father were daily
ridiculed. But all this I laughed at m my sleeve, well consider-
ing that ]oking on the Cibbers could not huit us. On the
contrary, we opened with ^ Love for Love,^ and got up all the
strongest plays with a diligent expedition. Our company
consisted of the old veterans, who were allowed by the town to
be greatly superior to our antagonists ; for, excepting Mrs.
Olive and Mrs Hoi ton, there was not one m then* company but
was the contemptible refuse of the theatre We had also
leceived an additional force by receiving Mr Mil ward, who,
having left Mr Bich on some disgust, joined our forces

Theo Oibber, when later dehvering some lectuies at the
little theatie, thus alluded to this crisis :

Looking over this theatre, in order to prepare it for the
reception of my honourahle auditors, the motto Conabimur,’^
now placed over my head, caught my eye and brought to my
remembrance the time and the occasion of my first placing it
there

It was in the month of September, in the memorahle year
1733, that myself and a large body of comedians found a
happy asylum m this little theatre At this junctuie a patent,
granted as a lewaid to actoxs of merit, by being privately
stockjobbed, became the property of some who proved by
the event they had more money than knowledge of what
they trafficked foi . The actors had taken a lease of Drury
Lane, but being illegally shut out of that by the patentees,
they were reduced to the necessity of actmg in this little
theatre.

80

A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENOLISH STAGE

It was liere we set up oui’ standard o£ Liberty It was
tben we af&xed. that motto And oh * the blessed remembrance
of those golden times f It was here that upwards of a hundred
successive nights, as many crowded audiences loudly spoke in
favour of our attempt

The licence that obtained at the Haymaiket may be
conceived from the extraordinary scenes that occurred We
hear of constables coming with a warrant to arrest the actors
for playing ^^The Fall of Mortimer/^ a piece directed
against Court favourites, but they contrived to escape.
In March, 1733, a more singular business occurred On that
night one of the comedians hinted at the Minister's intended
Excise Act in a pantomime, Love Runs all Dangers Sir
Richard Walpole happened to be present, and at the end
demanded of the prompter if the words were in his book.
Being assured they were not, he gave the actor a sound
beating What a scene — ^the Minister going behind the
scenes to interrogate the prompter and ^^thiash^^ the
performer ^

In their appeal to the public are some interesting facts
relating to the tenure of the theatre The patentees set out
that it had been vested m the widow Wilks, Ellys, Hester
Booth, and Highmore, the latter now holding half the patent
at a price of 6000Z and upwards. The theatre was held
under lease from the Duke of Bedford to the Rev D Kynaston
and Mr Francis Stanhope, as trustees for the renters and
sharers, at a rent of 50Z, with a fine of 1000 guineas on a
renewal for twenty-one years. There had been no inter-
ruptions from the lessees or renters, who had been paid
regularly 3Z, 126. a night, ^^besides having the liberty of seeing
the plays A demand had been made for an increased lent,
but Ml. Highmore, who was then a stranger to the business,
consulted Booth and Cibber, who advised paying the old rent.

HIQHMORE AS lyAXAGER.

81

^^They note tlaat there is no other instance save that of
Wilks^ Booth, and Oibber being at the head of a company,
and it IS believed that the like will nevei be done again till
there shall be another set of equal merit

This remaik opens up a curious speculation as to the
advantage of actois being at the head of a theatre In this
view it IS woith while quoting from Dibdm the following
shrewd remaiks

From that moment the theatie got into estianeous hands,
and thence may be dated the first step toward the degiadation
of actors The names of Davenant and Kilhgrew gave cold
expectation of any prof essional encouragement to actors in then
own right It is tiue that they were under the immediate
piotection of the Loid Chamberlain, and could not be other-
wise than safely guarded by their privilege of appeal to that
nobleman, but this subjected them to adverse inteiests, which
weie suie to have adverse consequences

The piogiess of this, however, we have seen We have
seen even in Davenant’ s time that the two companies dwindled
into the size of one, and then weie glad enough to unite to
keep acting upon its legs We have seen the theatre, after it
was split and divided into factions, under Eich, torn, and
distracted, till at length the actors, with Betterton at their
head, removed, with the permission of King William, to
Lincoln’s Inn Fields, where, inconvenienced as they were,
they had success and were respected We have seen in what
manner, fiom the various ill conduct of Eich, that he was
interdicted by the Lord Chamberlain, with both the patents in
his pocket which were gi anted to Davenant and Kilhgrew*
We have seen the various changes which fixed Cibber in the
management, at which time acting began to glow into fame
and 1 eputation W e have seen, immediately after his secession,
how low it sunk nnder the management of persons who weie
not actors We have seen the miseiies of the stage in the
time of Fleetwood, and we have seen it rescued from those
miseiies by Garrick

The infeience from these obseivations naturally is that,

82

A NEW HISTOEY OF THE EN&LISH STAG^E,

as the theatre has invariably been a source of meritorious
emolument to every description of actors, as the profession of
an actor has been considered as perfectly reputable, as the fair
privileges of that profession have been accorded and en]oyed
as a right which could not be trenched upon, when the property
has been confided to actors, and, as the theatre has been,
without a single deviation, plunged into difficulties, as the
talents by means of which alone a theatre can exist — ^for
authors are nothing without actors — have been misunderstood,
misapplied, slighted, and set at naught j as salaries have been
curtailed, mulcts imposed, taskmasters employed, and other
unjust and unfair means resorted to to distress actors, when
the property has fallen into the hands of mere adventurers or
men of fortune, so it is evidently proved by circumstances
that cannot be controverted, and conclusions that cannot be
mistaken, that the theatre can never flourish to any degree of
perfection unless confided to the management of actors, and
regulated by that paramount authority which I have contended
throughout this work has ever been, and ever ought to be,
vested in the Lord Chamberlain.

The case was, however, so serious that the patentees made
an attempt at accommodation, and on October 30th a letter
was sent to Mills and the others at the Haymarket, signed by
Messrs. Wilks, John Highmore, John Ellys, and John Eich,
and ran

We have been daily in hopes that the mediation of friends
would have put an end to the diffeiences, and we are un-
willing to take such methods as the law presciibes , assuring
you we are willing to do whatever is reasonable But if you
persevere we shall proceed, as the law directs, to support the
patents.

None of the persons bemg there, it was left at Mdls^s house,
and in about two hours was returned unopened. A new
direction being immediately put on it, it was addressed to
T Cibber, who replied that he was well advised that what
he was about was legal, and he knew it was reasonable.

HiaHMOitE AS MAl^TAaiE.

83

and therefore I do not tlnnk of changing my present con-
dition for serYitnde/^ The patentees of Drury Lane and
Covent Garden^ being resolved to see if they had an exdasive
right, summoned the Revels company and that of Goodman’s
Fields before a bench of justices. On November 5th the case
was argued, but the justices weie not satisfied as to the
validity of the summons, and dismissed it

The only performers that were faithful, amid the faithless,
to the managers were Mis Clive, Mrs Horton, and Bridgewater,
Of Mrs Clive it was as might be expected, who was ever the
tiue and steadfast Pivy/^ For this behaviour she won from
Fielding, m a dedication to his Intriguing Chambermaid,^^
the following high encomium •

In the present dispute between the players and the
patentees, 1738, the part you have maintained is so full of
honour that had it been in higher life, it would have given you
the reputation of the greatest heroine of the age. You looked
on the case of Mr Highmore and Mrs Wilks with compassion ,
nor could any promise or views of interest sway you to deseit
them, nor have you scrupled any fatigue (particulaily the
pait which, at so short a warnmg, you undeitook in this farce)
to support the cause of those whom you imagined injuied and
distressed , and for this you have been so far fiom endeavour-
ing to exact an exorbitant reward fiom persons little able to
afford it, that I have known you offer to act for nothing rather
than the patentees should be mjuied by the dismission of the
audience In short, if honour, good gratitude, and good
sense, joined with the most entei taming humour, wherever
they aie found, are titles to public esteem, I think you may be
suie of it

Nor was this all. The ^^hioken wit/^ as Cibber styles
him, added this, almost the handsomest compliment ever
offered to an actress, claiming that he brought her forward.
He goes on ,

But, great a favourite as you are at piesent with the

84

A HISTOEY OF THE EKOLISH STAOE

audience^ you would be mucli more were they acquainted with,
your private cbaracter, could they see you laying out great
part o£ tbe profits whicb arise to you for entertaining them so
well in support of an aged father , did they see you, who can
charm them on the stage with personating the foolish and
VICIOUS characteis of your sex, acting in real life the part of
the best wife, the best daughter, the best sister, and the best
friend.

This was a serious competition. Driven to his wits’-end,
Highmore resolved on taking an extraordinary and violent
step. In this singular measure he was ]omed by Rich and the
other patentees It was nothing less than challenging the power
of the Crown to give a licence against a patent, and the course
was taken of charging the revolted players as vagrants before
the magistrates foi acting without a patent.

But to return (says Victor) to the deserted and truly
distressed new manager, Highmore, whom we left in his
Theatre Royal almost without a company As the season for
acting of plays was advanced, he was i educed to the necessity of
beating his drum for volunteers , several recruits offered from the
strolling companies, but I remember none of any promise but
Mr Macklin, who soon distinguished himself In this maimed
condition the business of course went lamely on Time was
given him that the Act against vagrants would effectually serve
him

The first proceeding failed. We read in The Dmly
Post of November 6th, 1733 ^^The companies of the
Haymarket and Goodman’s Fields playhouses were yester-
day, at the prosecution of Mr Rich, Mr. Highmore, and
the rest of the patentees, summoned before Sir Thomas
Clarges at St Geoige’s Vestry, Hanover Square, to show
cause why their companies should not be convicted as
vagrants within the Statute , when, after heaiing the
arguments of Mr Marsh, Mi Serjeant Eyre, and Seijeant
Darnell, the justices dismissed the companies honourably.

HIGHMOEE AS MANAGEE

85

without making any older against eitker o£ And

on November lOtb, it was given out Wheieas tbe companies
of Goodman’s Fields and tbe Haymarbet playhouses were on
Monday last^ November 5tb, at tbe prosecution of Mr Rich,
Mr. Highmore, and tbe other patentees, convened before
Sir T Olarges, Bait, and other justices, at St George^s
Vestry, Hanover Square, to show cause why they should not
be convicted as vagrants, within the Statute of the 42 of
Anne, for acting without patents — Mr Serjeant Eyre,
Mr Strange, and Mr Edward Booth, counsel to Mr Mills
and company at the Haymarket playhouse, and Mr Serjeant
Darnell and others, counsel for Mr Giffard — the justices were
pleased to dismiss the companies honouiably, as not being in
any way within the Statute

This was sm'ely a significant warning But, nothing
daunted, they took a moie extreme step A good and re-
spectable actoi, noted for his enormous bulk, and who was led
therefrom to play Falstaff, was actually selected to be made a
scapegoat Constables came and seized him ^^as a vagrant/^
On the 12th, ran the account, Harper, one o£ the
Revels company, was brought up before the same justices
on a warrant, but the counsel being absent, engaged m
another theatrical cause going on between the patentees
and the Revels company. Sir T. Olarges took on himself
to commit Harper to Bridewell as a vagrant, and to be put
to hard labour, ^ which by his bulk he seems to be
as little fit for, as he is for being a vagrant,’’ In defence of
Harper it was urged that the Act applied only to players
wandenng abroad. He was a freeholder in Surrey, and had
a house in Westminster valued at 601/’

Oibher, who was present, declared that when it was argued,
it seemed to him impossible that the actor could he brought
within the Vagrant Act, as he was a householder and could

86

A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENG-LTSH STAQE

vote. says Yictor^ Have "been informed that so

far fx'om the housekeeper being a protection fiom the Vagrant
Act, a learned counsellor asserted, that it was in the power of
the greatest subject in England to be guilty of an action of
vagrancy I well remember, when I heard the event of this
trial, and on what a scandalous error all their boasted triumph
was founded, I could not help suspecting the integiity of the
person who conducted this affair , because, if the housekeeper,
who paid scot and lot, could not be deemed a vagrant, the
natural question then follows, why was Harper singled out ^
— a man known for many years to be a housekeeper in the
parish of St PauFs, Oovent Garden — ^when there were several
more eminent comedians in that company, that constantly
acted at both our fairs, and were not housekeepers *

On the 20th, Harper^s case was argued before the Lord
Chief Justice Torke, by twelve counsel, six on each side
The judge admitted him to bail on his own lecogmsances,
and ordered a feigned issue to try the validity of the com-
mitment. It was finally given in his favour. The decision
was received with shoutings, and the actor was escorted home
in triumph by his friends

^^The dice were thrown, and the poor new manager was
devoted to rum This trial was attended with no small
expense , which, added to his constant failing audiences, was
sufficient to destroy a much larger estate than his , and it
was with the utmost difficulty that he held out through the
season The misfortunes that befell this gentleman gave great
concern to his real friends He was a man of humanity and
strict honour ; many instances fatally proved that his word,
when solemnly given — ^which was his custom — was sufficient
for the performance, though ever so injurious to himself

But what led to reconciliation was the unexpected victory
of the comedians in their suit with Highmore for the due

HIGHMOEE AS MAlsTAGER.

87

execution of the lease On Novem'ber 1733, a case was
tried in the King’s Bencli Court upon an ejectment. It
was brought by the comedians at the Hay market against
the patentee of Drury Lane, and went in their favour, it
appearing that they had taken the lease of the two trustees
appointed by twenty-seven out of the thirty- six sharers
Highmore, of couise, held the patent, though they were
given the theatre, thus, neither of the parties could move
without the consent of the other. Bat, on November 28tb,
^^The playeis of the Revels were ordered to return to Drury
Lane ”

The players now began to be tired of their enterprise , for
their salaries as well as expectations were too large for their
theatre , and when such men as old Mills, Johnson, Griffin,
Miller, Harper (all men in years), found themselves the dupes
of so young and wild a leader as Mr Cibber, jamor, they
grew ashamed of their situation This their young spirited
leader soon discovered , and therefore had address enough to
preserve his station, and was not only principal, but alone, at
the first meeting for a treaty of peace with the new manager.
Thus the levolt ended. It, however, led to a reform lu the
adoption of what were called articles,’^ which it became the
custom to have drawn up legally and signed for two or three
years, with penalties and forfeits in case of breaking any
of the engagements Previously the only record was the
entry of every actor’s salary on the daily pay-rolL This
new provision, with the older one of the cartel,” ought
to have been sufficient to prevent strikes in future

Highmore, being thus utterly broken, had no resource but
to retire and give place to another “ man-about-town,” Mr.
Pleetwood. So much was the property now depreciated that the
late proprietor was compelled to take about half what he had
originally given. Eleetwood took up the uudertaking with a

88

A NEW HISTOET OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

ligEt teart The introduction of a man of fashion and a
gambler was to have a certain influence on the march of
diamatio events Mr Victor^ who knew this, thus introduces
him

Mr Fleetwood I had the honour to be acquainted with
when he arrived at the age of twenty-one, and enteied into
a landed estate of 6000Z a year He was agreeable in
his person , and the qualities of his mind, and amiableness of
his disposition, carried with them irresistible attractions , all
the nobility of the kingdom seemed fond of cultivating an
acquaintance with a young man of his extensive foitune, light
disposition, and sweetness of temper He was affable and
engaging in his addicss, which was the last and only remain-
ing quality that he kept with him to his death , and, no doubt,
that would have vanished with the rest if he had not found
it of constant use to him in his business with the world

The sudden ruin of this once amiable young gentleman
happened at a peiiod of universal havock, when a noble
peisonage of the first rank and fortune in England, and his
companion, a baionet of 12,000Z a year, weie surrounded
and destroyed by a set of honourable sharpers Mr Fleetwood
unfortunately fell into this set, and received great injuiy in
his foitune before he had time to recollect himself

The aich-intriguer who had piompted so much of this
disorder had now earned contempt and unpopularity This
Theo Oibbei*, who figures discreditably in every relation, was
one of those who are gratified even at public contempt, provided
it brings notoriety. One of those who lampooned him thus
speaks in his character

A summer company was at this juncture performing at
Oovent Garden Theatre, and our transactions and my character
were thought worthy to be represented on the stage Accord-
ingly a young spark, who was just come from Trmity College,
at Cambridge, to set up for an author in town, and who had
just before wrote a farce called ^*^The Mock Lawyer,^^ thought
this a proper time to exercise his genius. [This was Mr.

HIGHMORE AS MANAGER.

Edward Philips, who produced the ballad opera at Coyent
Garden in 1733 ] To work he went, and Pistol was to be bis
bero A farce was wrote and performed, and the bent of it
was to ridicule poor me tone of elocution, my buskin tiead,
my elevation of countenance, my dignity of gesture, and
expressive rotation of eyeballs , in shoit, all my manner was
burlesqued, and a mock pomp of words, which weie a parody
of tragedy speeches, and PistoPs bombast run through the
charactei What then did I, but placed myself m one of the
side boxes m the full front of the house Well, the scene
opened, and on PistoPs appearing there was a thundering clap,
and all the eyes m the house converted on me ; every sentence
that hit at me, the ]oke was heightened by looking at me, who
laughed as much at them Towards the last scene the author
had introduced a sale of theatrical goods, and one of the
properties put up to be disposed of was Apollo’s cracked harp
and withered crown of bayes , upon which a character on the
stage replied Oh ^ pray lay that aside for Mr Pistol, he
will claim that by hereditary right This immediately put
the whole house in a roar, and Encore ^ encore ^ was all
the cry Here the whole pit stood up and looked at me. I
jomed the laughing encore, and in the repetition of the low
witticism, clapped heartily.

The justly celebrated Colley Cibber (says Miss Bellamy),
being one day in the green-room, and observing his son to
enter, dressed m a black satm coat and breeches, with white
satin apparaments, and a waistcoat trimmed with silver frogs,
he inquired of him what character he pei formed that night.
To which the young man, who had now attained his fiftieth
year, replied, None, sir.’’ Struck with the oddity of his
appearance, the father, having taken a pinch of snuff, with a
very solemn an, such as would have become Sir Novelty Fashion,
then asked him what made him appear in so singular a dre^s
"Taste, sir, taste, answered the youth, with his usual pert-
ness Upon which the sue, being now highly exa^^peiated at
the absuidity and impudence of the son, exclaimed, Then, I
pity you ^ " Don’t pity me, sir/’ leplied Theophilus, turning

upon his heel at the same time with the utmost effrontery,
^^pity my tailor.” As another trait of this gentleman^s
character, I must inform you that he had such a passion for

90

A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENaLISH STAQl.

teing talked of, ttat lie inquired of Ins servant wkat the
world said of him , and upon the domestic^s telling him that
they did not entertain the most favourable opinion of him^ the
Eoppington of the time replied^ Well * let them but speak of
me at all^ and I shall be satisfied When this oddity was
formed, nature certamly was not in the best of humours, as he
was not able to boast of her liberal gifts. To a short squat
figure was joined an enormous head, with the most fiightful
face I ever beheld. The latter endowment was, indeed, fre-
quently of service to him, as, in his acting, he made ugliness
to pass for grimace; besides which, he substituted pertness
and assurance for wit and humour I must beg your patience
whilst I finish my picture of this strange personage, by adding
that he was a compound of meanness and extravagance. He
was profuse without being generous , and would borrow money
from every one of his contemporaries (notwithstanding he had
a very considerable appointment), and that without the smallest
intention of ever repaying them The regard I had for his
father introduced him to me ; but his demands were so frequent,
that at length, tired out, I gave him a sum that he might
never borrow of me again.

This was the principle afterwards adopted by the good
Dr. Primrose.

CHAPTER VII

FLEETWOOD,

The revolted comedians, "before Highmore^s departure, appear
to liave actually engaged to take Drury Lane ou then own
account Of this there can be no doubt, as it is set forward
m their ^^case,^^ drawn up when the Licensing Act was
proposed:

The case of B Johnson, J Mills, T Cibber, John Harper,
B Griffin, W Mills, W Milward, and E Butter, lessees of the
Theatre Royal in Drury Lane They urge that in 1733 they
took a lease of the theatre for fifteen years at a lent of 920Z.,
which, with taxes and repairs, make the whole lOOOZ. a year.
They beg to be allowed to perform there.

This led to regular legal proceedings against Fleetwood, for
we learn that on March 9th, This day we had possession of
Drury Lane House hy law, and Charles Fleetwood, Esq , having
bought the patent, all was amicably arranged between him and
the old company

Finally, on the loth, the Players of the Revels to the King,
assisted by sheriff^s officers, went m a body to Drury Lane,
which was delivered into their possession by Mr Fleetwood
^^as a matter of form^^ They must have been, therefore, m
joint possession with the manager.

92

A NEW HISTOET OF THE ENOLISH STAOE

Fleetwood liad bat few gifts for management, and looked
on bis theatre, as Sheridan was to do later, as a mode of
providing means for his pleasures. He knew not how to
provide actors, and was so destitute of good material that
he bad to depend on some old veterans for the attractions
One of these was the elder Mills, on whose unequal shouldeis
had descended the mantle of Booth. He seemed, we are told,
" to sink under the weight he had engaged to carry. Being
now turned of threescore, he might be literally and truly called
the theatrical porter, for the burden of the business lay entirely
on him I have seen the list of his characters, and as that com-
pany geneially played one hundred and eighty nights. Mills per-
formed at least one hundred and seventy nights every season
This return of the capital actors to their old and well- accus-
tomed theatre made a very visible difference in the audiences,
to the advantage of the new manager, whose unskilfulness in
the business of the stage was by that means the longer con-
cealed, but though he was an entire stranger to the art of
theatrical navigation, he had cunning enough to look out
for a pilot He selected successively the two most unsuited
assistants as stage-managers Theophilus Cibber set out with
him, his favourite and first minister, but did not long continue
m that high office. The manager had sense enough to find
that he was an improper and dangerous man Cibber was
therefore displaced for Macklin, a man at that time of seeming
humble pretensions, but of capabilities to raise himself to the
office of Lord High Cardinal This minister continued long
m the highest favour with the manager, and the business of
the theatre was conducted some years under his influence and
direction I well remember there were all the appearances of
success, as well as all the usual murmurings and discontents
among authors and actors , but I must speak of the particulars
of this period from report.”

FLEETWOOD

93

Passing by many incidents o£ little interest^ we now ap-
proach what w^as a critical period for the diama^ viz the year

1737, when ^Hhe famous Licensing Act was passed, the
history of which is well known , when four yeais before, in

1738, a number of the comedians had deserted the patent
theatres and set up at the Haymarket. The Chamberlain, when
he had given a licence, was indifferent, and bade their opponents
seek their lemedy at law But the real cause was the licence
indulged in by that broken wit. Fielding, at the Haymarket.

Much as the Licensing Act and the hcenseis^ doings have
been objected to — described as an anachronism — ^it has been
shown to have been an absolute necessity as a restraint m
resei ve Nor was it ever so necessary as at present, with the
amazing quantity of theatres, places of entertainment, and
music-halls, the performances being shaded ofi imperceptibly
into more coriect and classical plays With the competition
and difficulty of hitting the public taste,^^ licence of a gross
and personal kind would be certain to set in, for which an
action at law would be too uncertain and slow a remedy A
modern instance will show how easily this could be developed.
One of the wittiest and liveliest dramatic writers of our day,
some years ago, brought out a parody, in which three leading
statesmen, represented to the life, were shown visiting theElysian
Fields The effort was most diverting and successful Nothing
in the direction of farce could have excited more genuine fan
and merriment. But it is easy to see that that would have
been a point of departure The mine would have been
worked, the stage filled with ridiculous pictures of eccen-
tricity, and even infenority, and as it reached the inferior
houses, coarser and grosser portraits would have been
exhibited The censor wisely interposed The truth is,
however, the Licensing Act is really not intended to be worked
in the case of orthodox theatres.

94 A ’Emr HISTOET OF THE EHOLISH STAOE.

In Hamlet^s advice to the players^ so often quoted^ and
perhaps the "best code of instruction for the player, he says,
it will he remembered, that it is all important you had better
have their good report when living than dead This always
seemed extraordinary as viewed by the standard of our time^
for the good or bad voucher of the actor was really of no more
account than that of any other profession But how intelligible
this becomes when we think of Bayes and his mimicry; of Jo
Haines, of Fielding and his political pieces, and above all of
Foote, who throve and maintained himself and his theatre on
this evil report of others ^

That such a name as Fielding, and after him of Foote, should
be associated with the Haymarketwas sufficient to bring glory
to the little theatre. There was a curious likeness in their
pieces ; both indulging in the same sort of personality, though
Fielding specially indulged in ridicule of matter connected with
the stage Some of his pieces portray the life behind the
scenes, brmgmg on manager, prompter, actors, rehearsals, in
the style so pleasantly ridiculed in The Critic This topic
of the stage should always be sacred on the stage, and it
IS as undignified in the performers who ridicule it as dis-
respectful to the audience In private life people are recom-
mended never to tell jests or stones against themselves, the
result of which is only a loss of respect. And when prompter
and carpenter and call-boy come forward in the habit as
they lived, and an interior of the green-room is presented, the
vacant laugh is indeed produced, and some curiosity is gratified,
but it IS at the expense of much contempt.

During the vogue of Fielding, which continued from the
year 1727 to 1736, he supplied a number of pieces of this
character, viz Pasquin,^^ " The Historical Register,^^ Don
Quixote in London (mtroduced by a satire of this kind),
to which might be added ^^Tom Thumb’'’ and “The Grub

FLEETWOOD.

95

Slreefc Opera/^ in wincli antLors were ridiculed In tte
first class we have the players/^ rehearsing, and all the
apparatus of the stage introduced The author is asked for,
and it IS announced that he was arrested that morning, and
as I heard it was for upwards of 4? , I suppose he will hardly
get hail A woman player grumbling at another getting all
the principal paits now^ she was determined to advertise
against her, and let the town know how she was injured ”

Anyone who reads the pieces of Fielding here alluded to in
The Register,^^ etc., will see that the chief offence was struck
direct at the King^s ministers and their measures How this
was felt may he conceived from the story told by Davies of
Sir Robert going behind the scenes to chastise an actor for
some allusion of the kind. The more immediate cause, it has
often been said, was the impending production of a piece called
The G-olden Eump,^^ which Giffard's manager was said to have
artfully brought to the minister But the whole story is told
fully in the mock ^'Apology ” and in the life of 0 Cibber *

Mr Giffard had removed about this time from Goodmaii^s
Fields to Lincoln^s Inn Fields house, which he had hired of
Mr. Rich, his removal had not answered his end, and his
affairs began to grow desperate At this same time, m a most
vile paper, called Common Sense,^^ there was a libellous pro-
duction called The Golden Rump,^^ which the town and the
mob were fools enough to think wit and humour. Now as the
hitting m with the humour of the multitudinous mob is very
advantageous to a theatre, a dramatic piece was wrote on ‘^The
Golden Rump subject, and called The Golden Eump,^^
which was given Mr. Giffard to he performed ; but before it
was rehearsed it so happened, no matter how or why, hut so it
happened, that Mr Giffard went to Downing Street with this
satirical faice in his pocket, which was delivered to a great man

* As this was published in 1^41, only three years after the e^ent, and is
said to he the work of Fielding himself, or, at least, of someone behind the
scenes, it may he accepted as of good authority

96 A KEW HISTOEY OF THE EHQLISH STAGE

for Eis perusal; and it was found to be a scurrilous, ignominious,
traitorous, scandalous, etc etc. libel aginst majesty itself It

was immediately carried to shown to explained to

and remonstrated to that if there was not an imme-
diate Act of Parliament to stop such abuses, not legal dignity
was safe from them Actum est ^Twas done The point
gained in a moment, and a proper Act ordered to be got
^‘Well, now,^^ says some impatient reader, what of all this^
What secret is this ^ By what inference or innuendo does this

show the m ^^s policy or finesse ^ “ Prithee, don^t be

so mifty, and let me ask you a question by way of a suppose.
Suppose, sir, this same ^Golden Eump^ farce waswiote by a
certain great man’s own direction, and as much scurrility and
treason larded in it as possible. Suppose Giffard had a private
hint how to act in this affair, and was promised great things to
play a particular part in this farce Suppose he was promised
a separate licence, or an equivalent you may then suppose the
minister a thorough politician, who knew how to manage bad
things to the best advantage Oh * but,^^ say you, I will not
found my belief on supposes Truth may be supposed Suppose
this truth and you may be light If you aie so un genteel to
requiie proof demonstrative I have done with you, and can only
refer you to the author and negotiators of ‘ The Golden Rump ’ ”
This, however, is notoriously certain, that the faice of ^^The
Golden Rump ” was carried to a great man, and the master of
the playhouse, who carried it, was promised something, which
he has been some time in a vain expectation of, but will now,
m all probability, end in nothing at all.

OHAPTEE YIII.

THE LICENSING ACT, 173/.

We are now anived at a most important dramatic era, wten
British pablic opinion, ever logical, was to find that the
misty control of the Chamberlain, founded on traditions as
unceitain, could no longer he upheld, and the formal powers of
regular law weie to he inyoked. This was brought about by
the encioachment of two small theatres

The history of the house in Goodman’s Fields was as
follows

Mr Giffard was descended (as Mr. Ohetwood tells us) fiom
an ancient family, originally in Buckinghamshire His father
had a numerous issue, he being the last of eight sons He
was born in London, in 1699. In the year 1716 he was made
a clerk to the South Sea Company, in which post he remained
three years , but, having a strong propensity to the stage, he
first appealed m public on the theatre in Bath, m 1719, and,
m two years’ probation, he made such a px*ogress that the
manager of Lincoln’s Inn Fields Theatre invited him to join
his company, where he contmued two years more From
thence he went to try his fortune in Ireland, wheie his merit
soon brought him into the management During Ins stay there
he married the daughter of Mr and Mrs Lydai, persons that
made very good figures in the theatre This gentlewoman
died m child-bed very young, leaving behind her one son, born

98

A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

m Ills fatEer^s House on tie NortH Stiand^ wHo is now an actor
in this kingdom Some years after Mr Giffard married a
second wife^ who is now alive. She has an amiable person,
and IS a well-esteemed actress, both m tragedy and comedy,
born, if I am not misinformed by her mother, the widow
Lydal, in the year 1711 Mr Giffard and spouse, if I mistake
not, came over to Bogland in 1730, wheie they supported
a company of comedians then under the management of
Mr Odell, now Deputy Licenser of Plays under the Lord
Chamberlain, his Grace the Duke of Grafton Mr Odell, fiom
not understanding the management of a company (as, indeed,
how should anyone that is not in some sort bi ought up to that
knowledge), soon left it to Mr Giffaid that did, who, in the
year 1733, caused to he hwilt an entiTe^ new, heauhful, con--
venient theatie, by the same a'^ch^tect with that of Oovent
Garden, wheie dramatic pieces were performed with the utmost
elegance and propriety Some years after he was obliged to
quit that theatre (I may say by oppression) and occupied the
vacant theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, but his success did not
answer his merit From thence he transplanted himself in
the Theatre Royal, in Drury Lane, where he and his spouse
continued ever since

Merit will sometimes fail of due regard.

And virtue^s self must be its own reward.

The mention of this little theatre reminds us that, slowly
and imperceptibly, there were entering into competition with
the two old houses some new and less pretentious theatres,
which, m defiance of all opposition, and that of a violent kind,
were destined at last to break down the monopoly On
December 12th, the ^^New Haymarket^^ had opened with a
company that had never appeared before/^

In July, 1720, one Potter erected a theatie in the Hay-
market on the site of the King^s Head Inn, leasing it of
John and Thomas Moon, who held under the Crown, at a fine
of 200? The expenses were about 1000? , and 500Z more
for dresses and scenery. The earhest notice of this theatre is

THE LIOENSINa ACT, 1737.

99

on Decembei" 1720. tlie new tlieatre m tlie Hay-
market, between Little Suffolk Street and James Street, wkick
IS now completely finislied^ will be acted Pieiicli comedies
as soon as the lest of the actors come from Pans/^ The
company styled itself ^^His Grace the Duke of Montague^s
Company of Piench Comedians

And five yeais aftei wards, on October 31st, a new theatre
m Goodman’s Fields, near the Mmoiies, was opened This
was an old workshop^ loughly convex ted by one Odell into a
playhouse Its contiguity to the city soon made it a place of
great resort, and what was apprehended from the advertisement
of plays to be exhibited in that quarter of the town soon
followed . the adjacent houses became taverns^ m name, but
in truth they were houses of lewd resort, and the foimer
occupiers of them — useful manufacturers and mdustuous
artificers — were driven to seek elsewheie for a lesidence. In
the course of the entertainments of this place the manager
ventured to exhibit some few new plays, amongst the rest
a tragedy entitled ^King Charles the FirsV containing
sentiments suited to the characters of republicans, sectaries,
and enthusiasts, and a scemcal representation of the events
of that princess disastrous reign, better forgotten than
remembered Others, looked on this newly-erected theatre
with an eye more penetrating. The principal of these was
Sir John Barnard, a wise and venerable man, and a good
citizen He, as a magistrate, had for some time been
watching for such information as would bring the actors
at Goodman^s Fields playhouse within the reach of the
vagrant laws, hut none was laid before him that he could,
with prudence, act upon At length, however, an oppor-
tunity offered, which he not only embraced, but made an
admirable use of Mr. Henry Fielding, then a young
hamster without practice, a dramatic poet, and a patriot^

100 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

under tlie extreme pressure of necessity, had, m the year
1736, written a comedy or a farce — we may call it either
or both — entitled ^Pasquin,^ a dramatic satire on the times,
and brought it on the stage of the little playhouse in the
Haymarket, which was calculated to encouiage popular
clamour, and contained in it many reflections on the public
councils

Sir J Hawkins, a magistrate of much experience, gives a
very curious account of the disorders which took place at
the new and smaller theatie at Goodman^s Fields, and seems
to think that this weighed a good deal with the Government
for its suppression At last, in March, 1735, two years before
the Licensing Act, Sir J Barnaid moved for leave to bring
in a bill to restrain the number and scandalous abuses of
the playhouses ^^He particularly represented the mischief
done by them in the city of London, in corrupting youth and
encouraging vice, and prejudicing trade , and this, he said,
would be greatly in ci eased if another were built, as projected,
m St Martin^ s-le-Grand. At this motion, many in the House
were seen to smile, but he was seconded by Mr, Sandy s,
Mr. Pulteney, and by Sir E Walpole At length, though
at first it seemed to be leceived with a sort of disdain, the
case was alteied, and it was spoken for both by young
and old Mr James Erskine reckoned up the number of
playhouses the Opera House, the French playhouse in the
Haymarket, Oovent Garden, Drury Lane, Lincoln^s Inn Fields,
and Goodman^s Fields Theie were twice as many as at
Pans. He spoke contemptuously of the French, as degene-
rate He said it was astonishing what salaries the Italian
signoras received, equal to Lords of Treasury and judges.
Petitions poured in In April, a clause was proposed by
Government to increase the power of the Lord Chamberlain,
which Sir J. Barnard objected to, it being already excessive.

THE LIOEHSIlSra ACT, 1737

101

It was stated that the King would not pass it without this ,
so the hill was dropped, being put off a fortnight m Apnl,
and, on Paihament being prorogued, was not brought on
We now find abundant petitions presented to the House.
Petitions fiom the justices of peace, deputy lieutenants, and
many of the pimcipal inhabitants and others of the Tower
division, urging that the playhouse in Goodmaii^b Fields was
great nuisance,^^ and that all attempts to put down the
same had hitherto been ineffectual Those inteiested m the
theatre now found it time to interfere, and a petition from
the subscnbeis to Goodman^s Fields Theatie was sent up.
They urged that it had cost 2300Z , being built in the year
1731 The terms were that each subscriber was to have
Qd a share for every acting night It was supported by
another petition signed by mei chants, shopkeepers, w’eavers,
and dyers, foi Goodman^s Fields "^as close to Spitalfields, and
who were loud in piaise of its management, and piotestmg
that it did not inteifere with business Odell took the
opinion of eminent lawyers, who advised that he was entitled
at common law to carry on his business, on whicb he did so for
a year and a half Then being minded to quit the business,
he disposed of it to Mr Giffard Giffard acted for a whole
season ; he issued proposals for and elected his new playhouse
He urged the serious loss and rum the hill would entail on
him, Next came the case of the comedians, etc , belonging to
the theatre in Goodman's Fields They uiged that it would
deprive about thiee hundred persons of the common necessaiies
of life, ^S\hose sole dependence is upon the existence of the said
theatie, not being bred to any othei business There would
be no chance of their being employed at the other houses, as
these are oveibuidened with people and moie likely to discharge
some of their general actors than receive any additional
There was also a petition to the House of Commons, appealing

102 A NEW HISTOET OE THE ENG-LISH STAGE.

to their justice and humanity, they humbly conceiving that
to render any man incapable of getting his bread in the busi-
ness or occupation which he had been trained up to from his
youth IS depriving him of life in the most terrible manner

The answer from the House was an order that the said
petition be rejected

It is quite clear, therefore, from these proceedings that the
temper of the House and Government was m favour of the
licensing power some years before the Act A curious petition
was that of Mrs. Lee, of Southwark Eair, in which she sets out
some interesting dramatic facts. She pleaded that she had
laboured there for thirty years, where she had erected annually
two booths, and in scenes, decorations, and their erection had
expended 2000Z She is old, and if the bill pass she will be
ruined. That her and her mother^s companies have always
been the nurseries of the greatest performers, particularly Mrs
Boutell and Mr Booth, as well as a great number of the players
of Drury Lane and Oovent Garden

Mr Charles Lee, Comptroller of His Majesty^s Eevels, also ap-
pealed to the House, urging that it would inteiferewithhis privi-
leges; while Potter, the builder of the new Haymarket Theatre,
described how he had in 1720 agreed for a lease for sixty-one
years, at a sum of 200Z, for the Kmg^s Head Inn, on which he
was also to expend lOOOZ. He had done so, built a theatre, and
had expended 500Z on scenery. The eccentiic Antony Aston
urged that he also would be ruined, and prayed that as he was
poor he might be heard personally This was not without effect,
and an extraordmary incident in these proceedings was to be
the allowing of a professional mummer, such as Tony Aston
was, to give his evidence to the House of Commons Mr
Dibdin, who had access to the best mformation, and had met
plenty of persons who must have remembered the narrative,
declares that it was owing to his evidence that the House

THE LICEHSINa ACT, 1737

103

rejected tlie bill la its first shape, lie iavmg, from bis own
experience, shown how easy it was to evade the provisions.*

It cannot be too much insisted on — and, indeed, the evidence
seems clear — that the Licensing Act was absolutely necessary -j-
Even under its wholesome restraint reform was some time in
being brought about. Only seven years after it was passed
we find those stern watch-dogs of morality, the Middlesex
Grand Jury, making a presentment of a wholesale kind The
Lady Morthmgton and her gaming-house, Oovent Gaiden — The
Solby Castle Also against the proprietor of the avenues
leading to and from the several avenues for Oovent Garden
and Drury Lane, for not preventing wicked, loose, and disorderly
persons from loiteiing in the front of his houses, by which,
they urged, many were in danger of losing their lives oi of
receiving some other bodily injury, and are constantly robbed
of their watches They also piesented Goodman^s Fields,
where are daily meetings of disorderly idle people, also
Sadler’s Wells

As Cibber says, a lively spirit and uncommon eloquence
was urged against the bill But he effectually refated Lord
Chesterfield’s leasonmg, that what was suppressed on the stage
would be printed and published, by quoting fiom Collier some
admnable reflections, admirably expressed.

This satyr of a comedian and another poet have a different
effect upon reputation a character of disadvantage upon the
stage makes a stronger impression than elsewheie. Beading
IS but hearing at second-hand The eye is much more affecting,
and strikes deeper into the memory, than the ear, besides,
upon the stage both the senses are in conjunction. The life of

* He afterwards published a grotesque account of ins speech, wliicb w$s
largely sold Dibdin says that the object of the House in hearing him was to
gather the experience of one who had strolled all over the kingdom

f j5rlr F Place, m his interesting MS notes preserved in the British Museum,
reports a conversation held in the year 1833 with the then licenser, Mr George
Cohnan, m which the latter maintained this view.

104 A ISTEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

tlie actor fortiiBes tlie ol)]ect, and awakens tlie mind to take
kold of it Thus a dramatic abuse is riveted in the audience ,
a jest is improved into argument^ and rallying grows up into
reason. Thus a character of scandal becomes almost indelible ;
a man goes for a blockhead, upon content, and he that is made
a fool in a play is often made one for his life ^Tis true, he
passes for such only among the prejudiced and unthinking ,
but these are no inconsiderable divisions of mankind.

The patentees, with a stupid disregard of their own
interests, favoured the bill, though it gave the Chamberlain full
authority to license any number of rival houses that he pleased
They did not peiceive they were at the same time becoming

absolute dependents on a M r, for the bill contained a

clause that the Lord Chamberlain should have a power of
licensing other theatres, if he so thought proper, within the
city and liberties of Westminster The actors weie indeed
alarmed, and imagined this Act would lay them under oppres-
sions, from which they could gain no proper redress, for the
constant immemorial way of redressing grievances in the
government of a theatre is to raise a revolt.*'^

One of the officials under the new Act was Odell, who was
made Deputy Licenser and Inspector of Plays, an appoint-
ment it was not difficult to account for. Oldys says “ He was
a great observator of everything curious in conversation of his
acquaintance, and his own conversation was a lively chronicle
of the remaikable intrigues, sayings, adventuies, stories,
writings of many of the quality, poets, and other authors,
players, and booksellers He had been a popular man at
elections, and the mark of Goodman^s Fields playhouse, but
latterly had been forced to live leserved and retired by reason
of his debts/^ At the time of his death he was engaged in
writing his recollections Oldys paid a visit to his widow for
the purpose of exammmg his papers, mostly poems in favour
of the Ministry, one of them printed by Sir E Walpole, who

THE LIOEHSIFG ACT, 1737

105

gave him ten guineas foi tlie writing The tract liked best
was the history of his playhouse in Goodman^s Fields. I saw
nothing of the history of his conversation with ingenious men,
jests, tales, and intrigues, of which no man was better fui-
nished But Mrs Odell promised to inquire of Mr. GiiflGlu, of
the Chamberlain^s Office

Ml Victor describes the result of these high-handed
measures

In pursuance of this Act of Parliament* the new theatre in
Goodman^s Fields was shut up, as well as the little theatie in
the Haymaiket , and two new manuscript tragedies, the
ensuing season, were prohibited by the licenser, the one,
Giistavus Vasa,^^ written by Henry Brooke, E«q , a young
gentleman of a very promising genius, from Ireland, and late
a student at the Temple, and the other, Eleaiiora,^^ by my
late worthy celebrated fiiend, Mr Thompson Both these
pro&ciibed plays were distinguished by large subscriptions,
paiticularly the fiist As I was intimately acquainted with the
author, I am ceitam he cleared above lOOOZ by that subsciip-
tiou , so much incensed were the public at this first instance
of the pow er of a licensei *

While native performances were thus severely dealt with,
loud complaint was made of the partiality shown to foreign
sti oilers. It was true that they did not reflect on the Govern-
ment, but their piesence was as demoralising as that of the
persons so effectively denounced by Sir J, Hawkins and other
magistiates

The leader's (says Victor, who was present,; that had the

* By this Act (10 George II ), which was in force for nearH- a hundred
years, a peifoimance of any enter tamment of the stage, without anthoiit), by
virtue of letters patent, or without licence fiom the Lord Chamberlain, should
be subject to penalties , and if without a legal settlement, the actors should he
deemed rogues, etc , according to the Act of Anne The Chamberlain’s
anthoiity m licensing plays and prohibiting objectionable ones was also
affiimed It also confined representation under patent or licence to the city
of Westminster and the places where the sovereign lesided

VOL II 1

106 A ITEW HISTOEY OF THE IHGLISH STAGE

conduct of tlie opposition were known to be tbere^ one of wkom
called aloud for tbe song in praise of English roast beef, which
was accordingly sung in the gallery by a person prepaied for
that purpose, and the whole house besides joining in the chorus,
saluted the close with three huzzas ^ This, Justice Deveil was
pleased to say, was a not , upon which disputes commenced
directly, which were carried on with some degree of decency
on both sides The justice at first informed us that he was
come there as a magistrate to maintain the King’s authoiity,
that Colonel Pulteney, with a full company of the Guards,
were without to support him in the execution of his office ,
that it was the King'^s command the play should be acted, and
that the obstructing it was opposing the King^s authority, and
if that was done he must read the proclamation, aftei which
all offenders would be secured directly by the guards in
waiting

By this time the hour of six diew near, and the Fiench
and Spanish ambassadors, with their ladies, the late Loid and
Lady Gage, and Sir Thomas Eobinson, a commissioner of the
Excise, all appeared in the stage-box together At that
instant the curtain drew up, and discovered the actors stand-
ing between two files of grenadiers, with their bayonets fixed,
and resting on their firelocks There was a sight — enough
to animate the coldest Briton* At this the whole pit rose,
and unanimously turned to the justices, who sat in the middle
of it, to demand the reason of such arbitrary proceedings.
The justices either knew nothing of the soldiers being placed
there, or thought it safest to declare so At this declaration,
they demanded of Justice Deveil (who had owned himself the
commanding officer in the affair) to order them off the stage
He did so immediately, and they disappeared Then began
the serenade — ^not only catcalls, but all the various portable
instruments that could make a disagreeable noise were
brought up on this occasion, speaking was iidiculous, the
actois retired, and they opened with a grand dance of twelve
men and twelve women , but even that was prepared for, and
they were directly saluted with a bushel or two of peas, which
made their capering very unsafe. After this they attempted
to open the comedy, but had the actor possessed the voice of
it would have been lost in the confused sounds from a

THE LIOENSESTG ACT, 1737-

107

thousand various instruments Here, at the waving of DeveiTs
hand, all was silent, and, standing up on his seat, he made a
proposal to the house to this effect. That if they pei sifted
in the opposition, he must read the pioclamation , that if they
would permit the play to go on, and to he acted thiough that
night, he would promise (on his honour) to lay their dislikes
and resentment to the actors before the King, and he doubted
not but a speedy end would be put to their acting The
answer to this proposal was very short and very expre^^sive
^^Ko treaties ’ No treaties ^ At this the justice called for
candles to read the proclamation, and oidered the guards to
be m readiness , but a gentleman, seizing Mi. DeveiTs hand,
stretched out for the candle, begged of him to consider what
he was going to do, for his own sake, for ours, for the Eing^s
That he saw the unanimous lesolution of the house; and that
the appearance of soldiers in the pit would throw us all
into a tumult, which must end with the lives of many This
earnest remonstiance made the justice turn pale and passive.
At this pause the actors made a second attempt to go on,
and the upioar levived, which continuing some time, the
ambassadois and their ladies left their box, which occasi iiied
a univeisal huzza fiom the whole house, and after calling out
some time for the falling of the curtain, down it fell

CHAPTER IX.

MACELIN AND QUIN.

At the period at whicli we have now arrived^ we see
actors engiossmg even a inoie prominent share of attention
than hitherto, with their factions and rivalries and
intrigues This interest became more developed owing
to what might be called the coffee-house life then in
fashion, when men of wit and parts frequented such places ,
and the many clubs that existed were of the pattern
that still obtains in old-fashioned villages — an ordinary
at the inn, the members seated round a table enjoying
drinks and pipes Round Oovent Garden there was a large
number of taverns, which were crowded both before and after
the theatie, and here the slightest opportunities led to familiar
acquaintance. Well-known and even famous personages were
to be seen in their favourite seats This mode of life
and its perfect freedom of speech and criticism engendeied
remarkable shapes of character, and furnished a way to
reputation to many who would otherwise have remained
unknown Old Mackhn used long after to gariulously
retail anecdotes of the state of manneis and the tastes
of the town in these days, which are highly curious and
interesting. He would tell how he belonged to a club

MAOKLra AND qum.

109

whicli held a weekly dinner at St AlbanS; mucli about this
time, called The Walking Society’^ It mostly consisted of
the performeis of both houses, who piqued themselves on
their walking, and who obliged themselves never, on any
account whatsoever, to ride, or go m a vehicle, but to walk the
twenty miles backwaid and forward the same day The
manneis of the town and country, he said, were very distinct
at that period A countiyman in town was instantly known
by his diess as well as manners Few persons living sixty or
one hundred miles from town ever saw London

The City and west end of the town kept equal distances
No mei chant scarcely lived out of the former; Ins residence
was always attached to his counting-house He remembered
the fiist emigiation of the merchants from the City, about
fifty years ago, was to Hatton Gaiden, but none but men who
had secured a large foitune, and whose ci edits were beyond the
smallest censure, durst take this flight Quin, Booth, and
Wilks lived almost constantly m or about Bow Street, Covent
Garden, Colley Cibber in Chailes Street, lirs Pritchard in
Craven Buildings, Diary Lane, Billy Havard m Henrietta
Street The inferior playei lived or lodged in Little Russell
Street, Vinegar Yard, and the little courts about the Garden,
and I myself, sir (added the veteran), always about James
Stieet, or undei the Piazzas, so that (continued he) we could
be all mustered by beat of drum, could attend rehearsals
without any inconvenience, and save coach hire/^

Heie, at the Bedfoi'd, were seen such odd wild beings as
Dr Bairowby — half wit, half buffoon — with other eccentrics.
To he a theatrical critic was in those days the top feather lu
the cap of gallantry and hteiature It was sought after by
most of the young men of fashion and polite literature These
critics were distinguished from the critics of the present day
by not being so by profession, or rather by pecuniary engage-

110 A ITEW HISTOEY OE THE USTGLISH STAGE.

ment They practised the art as amateurs , and, as they
appeared more in their own characters than as anonymous
wiitersj they required greater responsibility in point of learning,
taste^ and judgment. The coffee-house thus led to a curious
system of coffee-house critics — an important section with
actual power, that at the Bedford was crowded every night
(about 1754) with men of parts Almost everyone you meet
IS a polite scholar and a wit. Jokes and hon mots are echoed
fiombox to box, and the merits of every production of the
press or performance of the theatres weighed and determined.*^
It might be matter of speculation what influence these irre-
pressible judges could have, or by what sanction they
could enforce their decisions This can be readily answered
They had the scurrilous pamphlet or more open attack at
command

Thus in January, 1742, appeared a letter from one of
these, stating ‘‘ he was secretary to a society of gentlemen
who wished him to acquaint the town with the fact that
they will not suffer our entertamments to be inteirupted by a
set of people who make it their practice every night to flutter
and to grin and bow behind the scenes, with huge muffs and
French airs, and tawdry outlandish dress We intend to be
at Oovent Gu<rden house on Tuesday, and endeavour to remove
this nuisance, equally grievous to the audience, the actors, and
Mr Eich, for the beaux seldom pay.^^

In the year 1738, the managers found it necessary once
more to protest against the intrusion behind the scenes, say-
ing that the audiences having been lately much disgusted at
the performers^being interrupted by persons crowding on the
stage, it IS humbly hoped none will take it ill that they
cannot be admitted behind the scenes in future.

About this time two remarkable actors found themselves
at Drury Lane, under the new manager, and gave laws to

MAOELDT Am) QUOT.

Ill

tlie coffee-house and tavern These were Macklin and Qmu,
men o£ a singular vigour and colour of mind^ who would
have made their mark in any other profession. The age of
the fiist was long a subject of perplexity and even jest, it
being believed that he was born about the time of the Battle
of the Boyne, dying, it is certain, in 1797 McLaughlin
was his leal name, a common one in Ireland He seems to have
had extiaordmary eneigy, with a kind of rude tiuculency.

Wrote Churchill of him :

Macklin, who largely deals m half-formed sounds,

Who wantonly transgresses natuie's bounds.

Whose acting^s hard, affected, and constrained.

Whose features, as each other they disdained,

At vanance set, inflexible and coarse,

Ne^er knew the workings of united force,

Ne^er kindly soften to each other^s aid,

Nor show the mingled powers of light and shade

Yet he was a masteily actor, a masterly writer, and possessed
a rough and ready wit ,* while of his acting Reynolds says I
did not meet with this great original till he was m the winter
of his life , but I have heard some contemporaries assert that
to the manner he conjoined a considerable portion of the
matter of Dr Johnson Of his Shylock, I can venture boldly
to assert that, for tdentity of character from the first scene to
the last, probably as a performance it was never surpassed/^

His violence was unfortunately to be exhibited m a quarrel
or scujQGle behind the scenes, which ended fatally for an unlucky
actoi named Hallam This took place one night lu May, 1735,

* J^othing can be better or more spontaneous than tbe follovi mg ** Once at
a dinner party, be suddenly turned and violently clapped an Irish clergyman on
the back ‘Kow, sir,’ he cned, *what is your opinion of Terence’s plays ^ '
The clergyman, confounded by the blow, answered in a rich brogue ‘ What !
do yon mean his Latin edition * Do you think,’ replied Mackim, giving him

another hearty blow, * do yon think I meant his L ish edition ^ and be d

to yon””

112 A NEW HISTOET OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

wlien the actors were in the scene-room, seated on the settle/^
and the play was going on It will he noted what an amount
of coarse oaths were expended, but the scene is brought
vividly before us One Thomas Arne said

I am the numberer of the boxes of Drury Lane play-
house, under Mr Fleetwood. On Saturday night I delivered
my accounts in at the propeity-office, and then, at eight
at night, I came into the scene-room, wheie the players
warm themselves, and sat in a chair at the side of the
fire Fronting the fire there is a long seat, whei e five or six
may sit The play was almost done, and they were making
piepaiations for the entertainment, when Macklin came into
the scene-1 oom and sat down next me, and high words aiose
between him and the deceased about a stock wig, for a disguise
in the entertainment He had played in the wig the night

before, and now the deceased had got it ^^D you for a

rogue, says the prisoner, what business have you with my
wig’^^ «I 0^53^ more a rogue than yourself, says the
deceased , it^s a stock wig, and I have as much right to it
as you have Some of the players coming in, they desned the
deceased to fetch the wig and give it to the prisoner , which he
did, and then said to him, Here is your wig , I have got one
that I like better,"’^ Macklin, sitting by me, took the "wig,
and began to comb it out, and all seemed to be quiet for about
half a quartei of an hour, but he began to grumble again, and

said to the deceased ^^D n you for a blackguaid, scmb,

rascal, how durst you have the impudence to take this wig ^
The deceased answered I am no more a rascal than your-
self."^^ Upon which the other started up out of his chair, and,
with a stick in his hand, made a lunge at the deceased, and
thrust the stick into his left eye, and, pulling it back again,
looked pale, turned on his heel, and, m a passion, thiew

the stick into the fire ^^D ^n it,^^ says he, and, turning

about again on his heel, he sat down The deceased clapped
his hand to his eye, and said it was gone thiough his head
He was going to sink , but they set him in a chair The other
came to him, and, leaning upon his left arm, put his hand to
his eye. ^^Lord,^^ cried the deceased, ^^it is out^^^ ^^No,^^

MAOKLIljr Airo Qum.

113

says Macklni; feel the ball roll under my hand Young
Ml Oibbei came in^ and immediately sent for Mr Ooldhain^
the suigeon

IVliitaker^ a dresser in the house^ under the comedy
players, also heard this noisy dispute Mr Mills, v^lio was
acting Juba, came in, and said, What^s the matter with you?
We can^t play for the noise you make^^ Macklm aiisweied,
Tiie rascal has got a wig that belongs to me Mi Mills
said to the deceased, Hallam, don^t be impudent , but give
him the wig^^ Hallam still lefused , upon which the prisoner

said, D 11 you, such a little rascal ought to be made an

example of , and so turned out of the room

Macklm, called on foi Ins defence, said

My loid, and gentlemen of the Jury, I played Sanclio the
night before, and the wig I then used was proper for the
new farce and absolutely necessaiy for my pait, as the whole
foice of the poet^s wit depends on the lean meagie looks of
one that is in w^ant of food This wig being, theicfore, so fit
for mj pui pose, and healing that the deceased had got ifc, I
said to him, ^^You have got the wig that I played m last
night, and it fits my part this night/^ have as much light
to it as yon,^^ says he I told him that I desired it as a favour
He said I should not have it You aie a scoundiel,^^ sa\s I,
^^to deny me when I only ask you that as a favour whith is
my light I am no inoie a scoundiel than youiself,^^ says
he And so he went out of the loom, and I went to the
promptei’s door to look for Mr Cibber Meanwhile, the
deceased went into the scene-room and said I had used him
like a pickpocket The author persuaded him to H me have
the wig, and the property-man biought him another wig.
Upon tins he thiew the first wig at me. I asked, ^MVhy he
could not Lave done that before He answ eied, Because
you used me Lke a pickpocket This provoked me, and

using up I said, n you for a puppy, get out^^ His

left side was then towaids me, but he turned about unluckily,
and my stick went into his eye Good God,^"* said I, what
have I done^ And I thiew the stick into the chimney. I
begged of the persons who weie present to take the deceased

114 A NEW EISTOET OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.

to the bagnio , but Mrs Moor said that slie had a room where
he should be taken care of. I had then no idea that it would
prove his end, but feared that his eye was in danger But the
next morning I saw Mr Turbutt, who advised me to keep out
of the way or I should be sent to gaol. I begged of him to
get the advice of a physician, and gave him a guinea , which
was all the money I had about me From the beginning of
the quarrel to the end it was but ten minutes, and there was
no intermission

He was found guilty of manslaughter only

This unfortunate accident did not injure his professional
prospects At first he ingratiated himself with the improvident
Fleetwood, and became his chief adviser and manager, in
place of the younger Cibber His principal, however, was
fond of borrowing sums of money from him, 20J and 30? at a
time, chiefly on benefit-nights; and at last persuaded him to
become security for him for a large sum of money. From
this entanglement he determined to release himself by a bold
and truly original device He pursued him one night to
Bartholomew Fair, where he found him taking the Prince of
Wales round the various booths He insisted on speaking
with him, inventing a story that he had been arrested as
Fleetwood^s bond, and had broken out ofBiistol gaol, and by
raising his voice succeeded in extorting what he wanted.
An appointment was made for that night at The Bunch of
Grapes, Clare Market There came also Howaid, an actor,
Mr Forrest, a solicitor, and Paul Whitehead, the poet, who
at last generously offered to take Macklin^s place in the bond.
The sum was for 3000? When Fleetwood fled to France,
Whitehead was arrested and thrown into prison, dying in
much distress.

Quin was what would now be called general manager
He and Macklin, both being of warm tempers, cordially
detested each other. Qum always found fault with the other^s

MAOKLIN AND QUIN

115

loose and careless style of playing, declaiing tliat it '^as im-
possible to bave a scene played in a classical or cbaste style
while Macklm was on Macklin_, also, complained o£ tlie
coaise and abusive tone lie adopted to the actors Of Macklm
the manager would say If God writes a legible hand, that
fellow IS a villain ^ And he once addressed Macklm, with-
out any piovocation ^^Mr Macklm, by the lines — I beg your
paidon, sir — the coidage of your face, you should be hanged.

With these feelings it was not wondeiful that yet another
scene of violence was added to the green-room lecords.
Macklm, grown very old, thus lelated his adventure in 1787,
at the Eainbow CofPee-house, in King Street, Oovent Garden,
to an acquaintance, who asked him if Quin and he had ever
quarrelled Many persons m the adjoining boxes attended
to the veteian, who spoke, as usual, in a veiy audible
voice, but exhibited strong proofs of the rapid decay of his
memory

^Wes, sir, I was very low in the theatre, as an actor,
when the suily fellow was the despot of the place. But, sir,
I had — had a lift, sii Yes, I was to play — the — the — ^the
boy with the red bieeches — ^you know who I mean, sir — he
whose mother is always going to law — you know who I
mean'’ Jerry Blackacie^ I suppose, sir?^^ ^^Aye, sir,
Jeriy Well, sir, I began to be a little known to the public,
and, egad, I began to make them laugh. I was called the
wild Iiishmau, sir, and was thought to have some fun in me,
and I made them laugh heartily in the boy, sir— -in Jeiry,
When I came off the stage, the surly fellow, who played the
scolding captain in the play; Captain — Captain — }ou know

who I mean Manly, I believe, sii Aje, sir, the

same — Manly Well, sir, the surly fellow began to scold me,
told me I was at my damned tricks, and that there was no
having a chaste scene for me Everybody, nay, egad, the
manager himself, was afraid of him I was afraid of the
fellow, too, but not much. Well, sir, I told him that I did
not mean to disturb him by my acting, but to show off a little

116 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

myself. Well, sir, in the other scenes I did the same, and
made the audience laugh incontinently — and he scolded me
again, sir. I made the same apology, hut the surly fellow
would not be appeased Again, sir, however, I did the same,
and when I leturned to the gieen-room he abused me like
a pickpocket, and said I must leave off my damned tucks I
told him I could not play otherwise He said I could, and
should Upon which, sir, egad, I said to him flatly, ^ You
he * ^ He was chewing an apple at this moment, and, spitting
the contents of his mouth into his hand, he threw them in my
face Indeed > It is a fact, sir Well, sir, I went up
to him directly (for I was a great boxing cull m those days),
and pushed him down into a chair and pummelled his face
damnably He stiove to resist, but he was no match for
me, and I made his face swell so with the blows that he
could baldly speak When he attempted to go on with his
part, sir, he mumbled so that the audience began to hiss
Upon which he went forward and told them, sii, that some-
thing unpleasant had happened, and that he was really very
ill But, sir, the moment I went to strike him, theie were
many noblemen in the green-ioom, full diessed, with their
swords and large wigs (for the green-room was a soit of
state-room, then, sir) Well, they were all alarmed, and
jumped upon the benches, waiting in silent amazement till
the affaii was over At the end of the play, sir, he told me I
must give him satisfaction , and that, when he changed his
dress, he would wait for me at the Obelisk, in Oovent Gaiden.
I told him I would be with him , but, sir, when he was gone,
I recollected that I was to play in the pantomime (for I was a
great pantomime boy in those days) , so, sir, I said to myself,
^ Damn the fellow, let him wait , I won^t go to him till my
business is all over , let him fume and fret, and be damned '
Well, sir, Mr Fleetwood, the manager, who was one of the
best men in the world — all kindness, all mildness, and
graciousness, and affability — had heaid of the affair, and as
Quin was his great actor, and in favour with the town, he told
me I had had levenge enough, that I should not meet the
surly fellow that night, but that he would make the mattei up
somehow or other Well, sir, Mr Fleetwood ordeied me a
good supper and some wine, and made me sleep at his house

MiOKLUsr AOT> Qum

117

all inglit; to prevent any meeting Well, sir^ in the morning
he told me that I mnst^ for his sake, make a little apology to
Quin foi what I had done And so, sir, having given him a
bellyful, I, to oblige Mr Fleetwood (for I loved the man),
did, sii, make some apology to him, and the matter dropped

The eye always rests with pleasure on Quin^ who, besides
adding to the glories of the English stage, furnishes much
entertainment by his wit and social gifts He was one of the
many Irish contributors to the English stage, though not born
in that country.

This great and ]ust actor (says his friend Chet wood) was
boin in King Street, Oovent Garden, the 24th of February,
1693, though numbers believe he owes his birth to Ireland.
His ancestors were of an ancient family in this kingdom ; his
grandfather, Alderman Mark Quin, was Lord Mayor of the
city of Dublin m the year 1676, in the reign of King Charles
the Second The father of our Roscius received a libeial
education in Trinity College, Dublin, from thence he went
over to Lmcoln^s Inn to finish his studies, where he was called
to the Bar , but at the death of his father (who left him a
plentiful estate) he returned with his son, then an infant, to
take possession

Mr James Quin was educated under the caie of Dr Jones
of Dublin (a person eminent for learning) till the death of his
father in the year 1710 Mr Quin was undoubted heir to his
estate, but thiough his youth and inexperience of the courts,
a suit of law hung so long in Chancery, till he, unenabled to
cany the cause farther, was obliged to drop it for want of proper
assistance I am informed a powerful guider of the law was
his antagonist, and a person has but a bad chance to fight a
duel with a fencing-master

Our eminent actor first appeared on the stage in old
Smock Alley in the part of Abel in The Committee I must
take some little piidewhen I declare I imagine myself the first
that persuaded him not to smother his rising genius in this
kingdom, where, at that time, there was no great encourage-
ment for merit, and try his fortune in London, where, by

118 A I^EW HISTOET OE THE EHaLISH STAGE

his kind and ever-to-he-remembered recommendation^ I soon
followed him

It IS in some sort a hardship to a rising genius in the first
entrance to a regular established company , the parts are all
supplied^ and like under-officers in an army, they must wait for
preferment, or do something extraordinary before they can
expect it An accident fell out that gave our young actor a
happy opportunity

The managers had an order from the Lord Chamberlain to
revive the play of Tamerlane for the 4th of November,
1716, which was got up with the utmost magnificence The
thud night the late Mr Mills (who performed Bajazet) was
taken suddenly ill, and, with much persuasion, Mr Quin was
pie vailed upon to read the part, which was thought a great
undertaking for a young actor of his standing, but to the
mortification of several competitors he succeeded so well, that
the audience gave him their general applause through the
whole course of the part

His friendship with that sterling, worthy old actor Ryan
stood him in good stead, and was the cause of his introduction
to the stage But an unlucky escapade obliged him to with-
draw for a time to Dublin His friends imputed this departure
to the envy and ]ealousy of his fellows, people of twice his
age thought his progress too rapid. His temper took fire at
the visible depression He bore it some time On his return
he enlisted with Rich As in the case of so many other
perf 01 mers, at the bar as well as on the stage, the opportunity
of success came by an accident At Lincoln^s Inn Fields
there was a revival of The Merry Wives of Windsor, in
which Harper, the well-known Falstaff, was at the moment
performing — a character which he had made his own There
was no one to take the part at Lmcoln^s Inn Fields, when
Quin modestly offered himself

Said Rich You attempt Falstaff* why you might as well
think of acting Oato after Booth. The character of Falstaff,

MAGKLm QUIIT

119

yoang man, is quite anotlier character from what you think.
It IS not a little snivelling part that, that — in short, that any-
one can do. There is not a man among you that has any idea
of the part but myself It is quite out of your walk No,
never think of Falstaff — never think of Falstaff

Ryan, who at that time had the ear and confidence of
Rich, having heard Quin, long before he thought of coming out
upon the stage, repeat some passages in the character of
Falstaff, prevailed upon the manager to let Quin rehearse them
before him, which he accordingly did, but not much to his
master^s satisfaction However, as the case was desperate.
Rich was prevailed on to let Quin play the part

The first night of his appearance in this character he sur-
prised and astonished the audience Continual clappings and
peals of laughter in some measure interiupted the repre-
sentation, which, on that account, was prolonged to a late
hour Ryan was excellent m Ford , Spiller, reckoned among
the greatest comedians of that time, perfoimed Doctor Cams ,
and Baheme, anothei very good actor, Justice Shallow

Now giown famous, he soon passed to Drury Lane, and,
on the death of the elder Mills, succeeded to his cha-
racters A bolder attempt, however, was that of taking up
the character of Cato, in which Booth had so distinguished
himself, and was therefore sacied In this he had again
extraordinary success, being received with a whirlwind of
applause and shouts of Booth outdone — a favourite and
mahcious theatrical cry of the time, even though the actor
outdone was alive The well-known soliloquy, ‘^It must be
so,^^ was encored * Mr. Quin readily complied During the
performance an incident occurred which again shows the touchy
quarrelsome temper of the player at this era

An actor named Williams, a native of Wales, pei formed
the pait of the Messenger, and in saying, ^^Omsar sends health
to Cato,^^ he pronounced the last word Keeto, which so annoyed
Quin that he replied, Would he had sent a better messenger/^
This reply so stung Williams, that, followmg Quin into the

120 A NEW HISTOET OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

green-room wEen Ee came off tEe stage, after representing tEe
injury Ee Ead done Eim, by making Eim appear ridiculous in
tEe eyes of tEe audience, and Eurting Eim in Eis piofession, Ee
demanded satisfaction as a gentleman Quin, with Eis usual
pEilosopEy and good-Eumour, endeavoured to appease Eim
His antagonist, witEout furtEer remonstrance, retired, and,
waiting for Quin under tEe Piazza, upon Eis return from tEe
tavern to Eis lodgings, drew and attacked Eim , but in the
rencontre Ee Eimself received a mortal wound Quin was
tried for tins affair at tEe Old Bailey, and tEe verdict was
manslaiigEter

It would almost seem tEat Ee was as Eot-tempered as
Macklin, and as unfoitunate Going into tEe tEeatie one
niglit, Ee Ead a dispute witE a young spark, and, drawing,
wounded Eim in tEe band Again tEeie was to be shown the
usual disrespect for the stage and audience, for, making his
way behind the scene, this young fellow, on Qum delivering
the line, ‘‘On the blade are drops of reeking blood,^^ called
out, '‘You rascal, iFs my blood To him Quin replied,

c(j) 11 your blood and then went on with his part.

This coarseness was repeated as a capital jest

In course of time his influence in the theatre inci eased.
The dissolute Fleetwood found m him an excellent deputy and
useful ally His rough temper was specially suited to deal
with cieatures like Theo Gibber, on whom Ee made a not
inappropriate remark too coarse to be quoted. With this
person, some years later, Ee Ead an awkward rencontre,
and which is characteristic of Eis character "Mr. Gibber
strutted into the Govent Garden office, declaring he must bung
Quin to account for the manner Ee Ead spoken of him. Some
friends were delighted to point him out Mr, Quin was actually
present, seated in a corner , on which Gibber made an excuse,
saying that Ee would find another Vcasion. His friends, eager

MACKLm AOT) QUm

121

for sport; assured Imn that Qum was leaving for Bath next
day , on which Theo accosted hini; asking what he meant; etc
Qain at once invited him out to the Piazza, and the unlucky Theo
had to folkw; wheii; after some passes and flourishmgS; Theo
retreated; and Quin pressing him; the latter stumbled and fell ;
on which Theo rushed at him and inflicted a sbght wound on
his forehead; then fled towards the church as for sanotuary,^^
Of Quints merits as an actor, DavieS; who almost came
within living memory; and had seen him play; did not think
very highly ^^No onO;’^ he said; understood propriety in
speaking so well ; but he was utterly unqualified for the
striking and vigorous characters of tragedy , he could neither
express the tender or violent emotions of the heart , his action
was forced or languid; his movement ponderous and sluggish/^
But again; ^^in characters of singular human and dignified
folly; of treacherous art; contemptuous spleeu; and even of
pleasing gravity — what happily-chosen phrases he was
excellent/^

VOT . TT.

CHAPTER X

GAEEIOK^S EISE.

Among Mrs. Woffington^s fz’iends was a pleasing young fellow
fiom Lichfield^ a wine merchant m Durham Yard^ spract in
person/^ as Mr. Aston would say, neatly made, and haunting
the gi een-rooms and taverns This was Mr Garrick, who wrote
verses in the magazines in praise of his mistress and against
Colley Cibber, and who was now meditating a trial of his
powers on the stage. He came to town about the year 1738.
His devotion to the lady led him at one time to think seriously
of marriage, but her unstable character put such a step out of
the question *

When, at last, after a trial at Ipswich, he burst upon the
woild, on October 19th, 1741, at the little Goodman^s Fields
Theatre, the whole town went ^^horn mad^^ to see him. From
that day his success was assured, and he advanced in steady
crescendo, acquiring wealth as well as fame f

* All this IS so fully set out in the author’s Life of Garrick,” as well as in
othei works, that I shall not tiespass on the reader’s patience by going oyer the
familiar story One of the most pleasing incidents m the composition of that
life was the mode in which some descendants of Garrick — kind, amiable
people, Hr and Hrs Hill, of Ilichmond— placed their family papers, filling a
couple of large trunks, in my hands, containing all Gariick’s letters, diaries^
notes , and, above all, innumerable attempts at verse — a good many full of
bitter reproaches to his faithless mistress

t My valued fiiend, the late Mr John Foister, possessed an enormous collec-
tion of Garrick’s correspondence, which he generously placed at my disposal

aAEEICK’S EISE

123

It IS a surprise to find that there were at this tune per-
formances on Christmas Day , a survival of the older custom
of playing on Sundays and holidays So late as 1742, Garrick
performed in The Fop^s Fortune at Goodman’s Fields on
Christmas Day.

The use of Garnck marks an important reform in the style
of acting , the solemn stilted fashion of declaiming, winch had
been held sacred by such professors as Qum, was abolished
on the instant Garrick mtroduced a vivacious, varied, and
natural style ; though, oddly enough, after some fifty or sixty
years, when Gariick’s school had been formed, this too had
become stiff and formal. It is difficult, however, to ]udge
without comparison, and, very often, long usage makes what
is really excellent and legitimate appear old-fashioned and
tedious It IS certain, however, that some remnant of arti-
ficiality IS necessary to give dignity to recitation , and nothmg
IS less impressive, or indeed natural, than the poor school of
enunciation introduced with Mr. Eobertson’s plays — supposed
to be nature itself, but utterly ineffective and unentei taming
The style of Mdlle. Mars would, no doubt, appear strained and

for a life of tlie actor He liad himself long intended writing a biography on
the Bnb3eot, which in his hands would have been a delightful book He was
the foremost of dramatic critics Long ago he published some curiously inter-
estmg letters, written down to Lichfield to describe this success But the
following is scarcely known

Dear Friend,

As to being settled at present, I cannot flatter myself with it, because
our old friend Sir J Bernard has threatened Mr Giflardwithfiesh prosecutions,
and how in the end we may fare is very doubtful But there is a man, one
Gairick, who has turned actor and does wonders here, and is being much
followed, having played Eichard the Third, Clodio, Ohaman, and a new part in
a comedy called Pamela,*^ which is now acting, this being the tenth night, to
gieat audiences But this is too good success to last, for I hear that an uncle
of his hath made him large offers to leave the stage, so that hy this means we
shall not only lose him but a good prospect of having, if unmolested by the
aforesaid magistrate, a good season

I have been told he played during the summer season at Ipswich, but
received no pay.

124 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

pe'i 'Cliquey as no doubt the style now m vogue at tbe Fran 9 ais
will be by-and-by.

Wben Howe’s ^^Fair Penitent” was being performed,
Quin (says Cumberland, who was present) presented bimself
upon tbe using of tbe curtain in a green velvet coat em-
broidered down tbe seams, an enormous full-bottom periwig,
rolled stockings, and bigb-beeled, square-toed shoes, with
very little variation of cadence, and in deep full tones, accom-
panied by a sawing kind of motion which had more of the
senate than the stage in it, he rolled out his heroics with an
air of dignified indifference that seemed to disdain the plaudits
bestowed on him Mis Cibber, in a key high pitched, but
sweet withal, sung, or rather recitatived, Howe’s harmonious
strain somewhat in the manner of the improvisatore’s It was
so extremely wanting in contrast that though it did not wound
the ear it wearied it , when she had once recited two or three
speeches, I could anticipate the manner of every succeeding
one — it was like a long legendary ballad of inmmei able stanzas,
eve'^y one of which is sung to the same tune, eternally chiming
to the ear without variation or relief Mrs. Pritchard was an
actress of a different cast, had more nature, and of course
more change of tone, and variety both of action and expres-
sion In my opinion the comparison was decidedly in her
favour But when, after long and eager expectation, I first
beheld little Garrick, then young and light, and alive in every
muscle and m every feature, come bounding on the stage,
and pointing at the wittol Altamont (Ryan) and heavy-paced
Horatio (Quin), heavens, what a transition * It seemed as if
a whole century had been stepped over in the changing of a
single scene — old things were done away, and a new order at
once brought forward, light and luminous, and clearly destined
to dispel the barbarisms and bigotry of a tasteless age too
long attached to the pre 3 udioes of custom, and superstitiously
devoted to the illusions of imposing declamation.

It may be fairly assumed that, till the coming of Garrick in
1741, these rules of stage declamation were the heritage of the
old Shakespearean days. Of course the long series of poetical
plays during the reign of Charles the Second must have added

GAEEIOZ^S EISE

125

stilts/^ but tlie fact remains that traditions were handed
down of the Shakespeaiean mode of interpretation ‘‘Thus
Taylor/^ says Davies, “was the oiigmal performer of Hamlet;
and his excellencies in that character were so remarkable, that,
from the remembrance of them, Sir William Davenant taught
Betterton a lesson which gained him universal and lasting
reputation Sir William Davenant also recollected Lewm
in “Heniy the Eighth,^^ and taught Betterton, who taught
Booth, who taught Quin “ He was particularly ^happy m pre-
serving the true spirit of the part through the whole play.
Quin, who had the good sense to admire and mutate Booth, and
the honesty to own it, kept as near as possible to his great
exemplar^s portrait, but Qum was deficient in flexibility as
well as strength of voice

More curious still was Sir William's teaching Mis Betterton
Ophelia fiom the pattern of the “Boy Ophelias,^^ which he
recalled One of the oddest traditions was in refeience to
Polonius, which was always acted ly what is teojned a low
comedian by Lovell, Noakes, and Oioss, in former times, who
were succeeded by Griffin, Hippisley, Taswell, and Shuter, and
these again by Wilson, Baddeley, and Edwin in the later
times.

Garrick, however, imagined that the character had been
mistaken and that Polonius was not intended as an object
of mirth, and persuaded Woodward to give a serious reading
of the part. The result was a failure The character appeared
flat and insipid.

It was curious that in the very year of Garrick^ s fiist
triumph, viz 1741, there should have been another remarkable
effort, which, in its way, seems to mark a departure in the
fashion of acting — when Macklin had the courage to bring
forwaid Shakespeare^s play, “The Merchant of Venice/-' to
take the place of a melodiamatic farrago, entitled “The Jew

126 A HEW HISTOBY OF THE EHGLISH STAGE

of Venice/^ tlie work of a nokle adapter/^ Lord Lansdowne.
In tkis^ Shylock became a subordinate cbaracter, and was tbe
perquisite of tbe low comedian of tbe company Macklin bad
tbe good taste to restore bim to bis proper influence^ and
determined to present bim witb bis fitting importance to tbe
public

This, in its way, was one of tbe great reforms^ and was
as bold an attempt as could be conceived. Hitherto, tbe
character of Shylock bad been played as a sort of grotesque.
He was tbe low element, made comic and ridiculous — ]ust as
some baflflied Jew money-lender would be hunted through Clare
Maiket^ covered with mud and dirt, amidst tbe jeeis of tbe
populace He related himself bis diflGiculties and bis success

As soon as resolved, be communicated bis design to tbe
manager, who gave bis consent to bringing it out merely as a
revived piece, which might bring money to tbe treasury Tbe
play was therefore announced to be in preparation, and Macklm
now entered into it with all bis heart and mind, by casting the
parts himself, ordering frequent rehearsals, etc etc , but when
' be came to affix to himself tbe character of Shylock, and
intimated bis design to play it seiiously^ tbe laugh was
universal At every rehearsal, whilst be enjoined tbe rest of
tbe performers to do their best, be himself played both under
bis voice and general powers His fellow-peiformers publicly
said. That this hot-headed, conceited Irishman, who bad got
some little reputation in a few parts, bad now availed himself
of tbe manager's favour to bring himself and tbe theatre into
disgrace.** Fleetwood heard this, and seriously applied to
Macklm to give up tbe part.^^

He himself gives an account of tbe night in this character-
istic style ,

The bouse was crowded, from top to bottom, with tbe first
company in town Tbe two front rows of tbe pit, as usual.

aAEEIOK’S EISE.

127

were full of critics, who, sir, I eyed through the slit of the
curtain and was glad to see there, as I wished, in such a cause,
to be tried by a special jury When I made my appearance in
the green-room, dressed for the part, with my red hat on my
head, my piqued beard, loose black gown, etc etc , and with a
confidence which I never before assumed, the performers all
stared at one another, and evidently with a stare of disappoint-
ment Well, sir, hitherto all was right — till the last bell rung
— then, I confess my heart began to beat a little.

The opening scenes being lather tame and level, I could
not expect much applause, but I found myself well listened
to. I could hear distinctly in the pit the words Yery well;
very well, indeed * This man seems to know what he is
abouV^ etc These encomiums warmed me, but did not overset
me I knew where I should have the pull, which was in the
third act, and reseived myself accordingly. At this period I
threw out all my fire , and, as the contrasted passions of joy for
the Merchant's losses, and grief for the elopement of Jessica,
open a fine field for an actor's powers, I had the good fortune to
please beyond my warmest expectations. The whole house
was in an uproar of applause, and I was obliged to pause
between the speeches to give it vent, so as to be heard When
I went behind the scenes after this act, the manager met me,
and complimented me very highly on my performance, and
significantly added . Macklin, you were right at last,"^^ My
brethren in the green-room joined in his eulogium, hut with
different views.

On my return to the green-room, after the play was over,
it was crowded with nobility and critics, who all complimented
me in the warmest and most unbounded manner, and the
situation I felt myself in, I must confess, was one of the most
flattering and intoxicating of my whole life No money, no
title, could purchase what I felt And let no man tell me after
this what fame will not inspire a man to do, and how far the
attainment of it will nob remunerate his greatest labouis !
Sir, though I was not worth 50Z in the world at that
time, yet, let me tell you, I was Oha'iles the Gieat for that
night.

After his well-known triumphant visit to Dublin, the

128 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

Gaxrick fever/^ etc , tlie new actor returned to London, flushed
with success, to enter on an engagement with the now bankrupt
manager, Eleetwood He was to receive 560Z, the highest
salary yet given to an actor. He was to enter into rivalry with
Quin, the prophet of the old school, who was to play at Oovent
Garden The patentees had already forced Giffard to close his
theatre by the threat of law proceedings In September, 1742,
the forces on both sides were drawn up, Fleetwood having
Maoklin, Pritchard, Woj0B.ngton, and a lively performer, Clive,
and Garrick, to encounter Quin, Mrs Cibber, and others.
Qum felt bitteily the mortification of being deposed, and gave
vent to it in jests and personalities, declaring that there was
a new preacher, like Whitfield, whom they all lan after, but they
would soon come back to church again

The singularly free-and-easy style of the prologues now in
vogue, and the self-importance they imparted to the player,
must have been prejudicial to the stage, while the tone of
familiarity it engendered was hurtful to the dignity of audiences
and actors. How absurd was the following, delivered on the
production of a piece by Fielding, entitled ^^The Wedding
Day,^^ in which a cheap laugh was secured by personalities
at the expense of the author himself, seated amongst the
audience * Is not this licence clear evidence of the necessity
of some law of restraint ^

Gentlemen and Ladies — We must beg your indulgence, and
humbly hope youTl not be offended
At an accident that happened to-night, which was not in the
least intended,

I assure you — ^if you please, your money shall be returned —
but Mr Garrick to-day.

Who performs a principal character in the play.

Unfortunately sent word, ■'twill be impossible, having so long
a part.

To speak the prologue — ^he hasn't had time to get it by heart.

GAEEIOK’S EISE

129

I have been with the author, to know what^s to be done ,

For till the prologue’s spoke, sir, says I, we can^t go on
Pshaw * rot the prologue, says he, ^^then begin without it
I told him, ^twas impossible, you^d make such a rout about it,
Besides, ’twould be quite unpiecedented — and, I dare say.

Such an attempt, sir, would make them damn the play
Ha ^ damn my play * the flighted bard replies,

Deal Macklin, you must go on then, and apologise

Apologise ^ not I, pray, sir, excuse me

Zounds > something must be done — pr’ythee don^t refuse me

Pr’y thee, go on , tell them, to damn my play will be a d

hard case

Come, do , you’ve a good long dismal, mercy-begging face
Sir, your humble servant, you^re very merry/^ Yes,^^ says
he, “ Pve been drinking.

To raise my spirits, for, by Jupiter, Fve found ^em sinking
So away he went to see the play. Oh ^ there he sits *

Smoke him, smoke the author, you laughing crits ,

Isn^t he finely situated for a damning oh ^ — oh ’ a — a shrill
whihee ^ 0 direful yell ^

But to the prologue It began —

" To-night the comic author of to-day.

Has writ a — a — a something about a play.

And, as the bee — the bee — (that he brings by way of simile)
the bee which roves

Through — through — ^pshaw ^ pox o^ my memory ^ — oh ^ —
through fields and groves.

So comic poets in fair London town.

To cull the flowers of characters, wander up and down
Then there was a good deal about Eome, Athens, and dramatic
1 ules.

And characters of knaves and courtiers, authors and fools ,

And a vast deal about critics, and good-nature, and the poor
author^s fear,

And, I think, there was something about a third night hoping
to see you here

'Twas all such stuff as this, not woith lepeating.

In the old prologue cant, and then at last concludes, thus
kindly greeting.

To you, the critic jury of the pit,

130 A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

Our culprit author doth his cause submit
With justice, nay, with candour judge his wit.

Give him^ at least, a patient, quiet hearing ,

If guilty, damn him , if not guilty, clear him *

And this was actually written by the author himself ^

After this, the administration was becoming deplorable.
The low tastes of the manager were exhibited in bringing on
rope-dancers and tumblers. He hired from Sadler^s ^'monsters, ^
such as were exhibited at fairs, clowns and otheis. His inti-
mate friends were gamblers A money-lender, named Pierson,
was virtual director of the theatre, and ground down the
actors , and occasionally bailiffs were found in possession.
The embairassments of the manager were insurmountable
Salaries were unpaid, and matteis behind the scenes dis-
orderly Macklin, who, with his wife, belonged to the com-
pany, was at this time on friendly terms with Garrick, and
already preparing a revolt

The principal actors held conferences together for the
rediess of their grievances Deputations waited upon the
manager and threatened He received them with politeness,
acknowledged his faults with ingenuousness, and piomised
reparation

Mr. Garrick invited all the players to his lodgings about the
latter end of the summer of 1743, and proposed to them to enter
into an agreement to secede fiom Drury Lane, upon condition
that no person was to accept of any terms from the patentee
without the consent of all the seceders. He added that he
entertained great hopes of their being able to procure per-
mission from the Lord Chamberlain to set up for themselves
at the Opera House, or somewhere else He placed great
reliance, he said, upon the humanity and goodness of the

* A pleasant story is told by Mr Murphy, of IFielding’s iinsoucichnce m
refeienee to this play Garrick asking him to take out a dangerous passage, the
author said No , if the scene is not a good one, let them find that out ’’ On
the night of the performance the author sat in the green-room dunking

aAEEIOE?S EISE

131

Duke o£ Grafton, wko was at that time Lord Ohamberlam.
He argued there was a case exactly in point, where the gieat
Betterton, Mrs Barry, and other actors, as we have seen, were
relieved fiom the oppressive tyranny of Ohiistopher Eich, the
old patentee of Drury Lane Playhouse, by the benevolent Earl
of Dorset, who had been formerly Lord Ohamberlam

Macklin, however, was of opinion that it was much better
for them to go once more to the manager, and tell him, in an open
and manly manner, what they intended to do, before they took
so rash a step, and before they proceeded to actual extremities.
To this Gariick ob3ected, on the ground that an exposure of
them plan was the surest manner of enabling the manager to
defeat their application to the Lord Ohamberlam. In this he
was supported by all the other performers, who contended that
it would be the highest absurdity to remonstrate any more with
Mr Fleetwood, and that his baseness and cruelty towards them
did not entitle him to their candour or generosity That, in
order to remove any scruples that Mr Macklin might entertain
in the business, an agreement was to be foimally drawn out,
and immediately signed by all the parties, whereby it was
covenanted that neither of the contracting parties should
accommodate matters with the patentee without a compre-
hension of the other.

The performers immediately adopted this proposition, and
Macklin was compelled to yield to the voice of the majority
About a dozen of the performers, the chief of whom were
Garrick, Macklin, Havard, Berry, Blakes, Mills, and Mrs.
Pritchard, Mrs Olive, and Mrs Mills, immediately entered
into an association and signed the agreement There were
others invited to become members The next step that was to
be taken after this secession was to address the Duke of
Grafton. They undertook, at the same time, to confirm every
paiticular by aflB.davit The petition was laid before the Lord
Chamberlain, and an interview followed soon after, which
turned out very unfavourable for the petitioneis Whatever
the motives were that influenced the duke, the players were
given to understand that they had very little countenance to
expect fiom that quaiter

In this posture of affairs the patentee exerted himself, and

132 A HEW HISTOEY OE THE EHGLTSH STAGE

The seceders found all their efforts to obtain a new patent
ineffectual, and the naanager was little better circumstanced
with regal d to his fresh Uoops ^ The period at which the
theaties usually open having ai lived, Mr Fleetwood resolved
to hazard everything, and to announce the representation of
The Conscious Lovers for the 20th of September, 1743
As soon as Mr Gaiiick discoveied that the Lord Chamberlain
was not favourably disposed towards the cause of the players,
he thought the best mode to be pm sued was to make the best
terms with Mr Fleetwood, and a negotiation was immediately
set on foot, and a proposition of accommodation was made by
Ml Garrick, in which he included some of his friends, such as
he thought vould be absolutely necessary to the manager in
his then harassed condition This pioposition was made
without the privity of Macklm, without the consent of the
whole of the seceders, and consequently in violation of a solemn
agieement As soon as the object of this underhanded nego-
tiation became known, Macklm called upon Garrick and re-
proached him in bitter terms he accused him of perfidy and
apostacy, and insisted upon his adheimg to the articles of their
agieement But this was m vain , for Garrick was now resolved
upon an accommodation with Mr, Fleetwood, at the expense
even of his honour and character.

The pioposition of reconciliation was agreed to, and Gariick
and a few others were admitted again into favour But this was
not all. Garrick contrived, during the negotiation, to get his
own salaiy increased, and to procure the same annual stipends
for his fiiends that they enjoyed previous to their secession.
The rest of the unfoitunate players were left to shift for
themselves as well as they could These poor people, rather
than staive, threw themselves on the mercy of the patentee,
who employed them, indeed, but at the same time took care to
abiidge them of half their salary The revolt of the players
was ascribed by Mr Fleetwood principally to Macklm, whose
ingratitude he determined to punish , for such he termed his
conduct in this transaction

Davies, speaking of this affair, says Mr Macklm had no
inclination to become the scapegoat in this business, and he
urged Mr Garrick to perfect the articles of their agreement, by
which it was covenanted that neither of the contracting parties

should accommodate matters with the patentee without a com-
prehension of the other Mr Gai'tich could not but acbnow^
ledge the justice of M'l Madelines jplea By way of extenuation,
he goes on, and says Mi Garrick offered Mr Maoklin a sum,
to be paid weekly out of his income, for a certain time, till the
manager could be brought into better temper, or he should
have it m his power to provide for himself in a manner suitable
to his rank in the theatre He obtained a promise of Mr Rich
to give Mis, Macklin a weekly salary of 31 These pioposals
were stienuously rejected by Mr Macklin in his claim of
Mr Garrick’s absolutely fulfilling the tenor of their compact,
Mr Garrick, notwithstanding the perseverance of Mr Macklin,
accepted Fleetwood’s proposals, and entered into a covenant with
him for that season, at a very considerable income, I believe
6001 or 7001

The public were so much incensed at the flagitious conduct
of Mr Garrick, that, on the night of his first appearance
afterwards, in the part of Bayes, he was tieated with much
severity. Davies says As soon as Mr Garrick entered, he
bowed very low several times, and, with the most submissive
action, entreated to be heaid He was saluted with loud
hisses and continual cries of ^ Off * off ^ off * ^ All Mr Garrick^s
attempts to pacify them were rejected with disdain.’’ The
manager, however, had called in his fiiends and associates
from Hockley -in-the-Hole and the Bear Garden, These were
distributed m great plenty in the pit and galleries, armed with
sticks and bludgeons, with positive ordeis from their com-
manding officer to check the zeal of Macklm’s friends by the
weightiest arguments in their power This theatrical tempest
lasted two nights, but the obstinacy of the manager and the
weighty arguments of his associates at length prevailed, and
shielded Mr. Garrick from the just vengeance of the public.
Mr Macklin wrote a pamphlet, ascribed at that time to
Mr Oorbyn Morris, in which he laid his whole case before
the public

It was nearly certain that these riots were stirred up by
Macklin, assisted by his friend Barrowby, a doctor that hung
loose” upon the town, and who had at last to restram the actor’s

134 A NEW HISTOBY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE,

violence. Not withstanding this, Garrick and he were recon
ciled, and we later find the truculent player making his how
once more to the Drury Lane audience.

The profits, salaries, etc, at the end of Mr. GarricFs second
season weie as foUow

1742^3

£

8

d

Mr. Garrick

680

0

0

Two clear benefits, one paying SOL

500

0

0

Macklin, 91 9s a week, and 61 6s cer-

tain for his wife, who acted a few

times

525

0

0

A clear benefit, and hers, paying SOI,

230

0

0

Mrs Woffington, 71 10s ceitain, clear

benefit

180

0

0

Cloaths

50

0

0

Mrs Pritchard, 71 10^ certain

250

0

0

Clear benefit

180

0

0

Cloaths

50

0

0

Mills, ]un., 61 certain

200

0

0

Benefit, paying 25Z

Mrs Clive, 151 15s certam ,

525

0

0

Clear benefit

200

0

0

Cloaths

50

0

0

Tickets at her benefit, as per agreement

21

0

0

£4001

0

0

Deduct other salaries

1419

13

1

Increase . . . £2581

6 11

N B — The benefits are computed by the account of the
house, and no computation made of gold tickets j which are some-
times very considerable, Gold tickets were presents in
money — ten and twenty guineas from noble patrons.

Mackhn, when outcast, saw no resource but to set up a sort
of school of elocution, a scheme he adopted several times in
his life. He b^an, or rather offered, to give instructions in
the science of acting. Among his pupils were Poote, Dr.

Hill, and others^ and soon after he pioduced some of these
reciuits at tlie Hayxnarketj Mr. Foote taking the part of
Othello. It must have been an odd performance. One of
his pupils later gave this account of the old master’s system
in one of his many journals

In Macklm^s garden there were three long parallel walks,
and his method of exercising the voice was thus. His two
young pupils with back boards (such as they use in boarding-
schools) walked firmly, slow, and well, up and down the two
side walks , Macklm himself paraded the centre walk at the
end of every twelve paces he made them stop , and turning
gracefully, the young actor called out across the walk, ^^How
do you do, Miss Ambrose^” She answered, ^^Very well, I
thank you, Mr. Glenville.'’^ They then took a few more paces,
and the next question was, Do you not think it a very fine
day, Mr Glenville ? very fine day, indeed. Miss Am-

biose,"’ was the answer Their walk continued; and then.

How do you do, Mr. Glenville ^ Pretty well, I thank
you. Miss Ambrose And this exercise continued foi an hour
or so (Macklm still keeping in the centre walk), in the full
hearing of their religious next-door neighbours Such was
Macklin^s method of training the management of the voice ,
if too high, too low, a wrong accent, or a faulty inflection, he
immediately noticed it, and made them repeat the words
twenty times till all was right * It was his manner to check
all the cant and cadence of tragedy , he would bid his pupil
first speak the passage as he would m common life, if he had
occasion to pronounce the same words , and then giving them
more foice, but preserving the same accent, to deliver them
on the stage When the player was faulty in his stops or
accents he set him right ; and with nothing more than this
attention to what is natural, he produced, out of the most
Ignorant persons, players that surprised everybody , the
Montano mentioned before was one of these, and this instruc-
tion was the source of his merit People were pleased with
a sensible delivery on this little stage Tragedy has now no

* This system of the old actor is also described h-amoronsly enough by
other performers many years later

136 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

peculiar accent or tone^ but tbe most outrageous scenes of it
are spoken according to Mr Macklin^s plan, as tbe same
words would be pronounced in common speech, only with
more eneigy.

It IS cbaracteristic, even thus early, to note tbe part tbe
pleasant Olive takes in tbis emeiite by ber ever-couiageous
and outspoken conduct Tbe indomitable Pivy now, per-
haps, sui prised tbe town by an appeal in tbe shape of a
lean pamphlet, Tbe Case of Mrs Olive submitted to
tbe Public,^^ detailing tbe way she bad been treated by tbe
managers. These grievances of tbe sensitive playeis never
seem veiy serious Tbe point of tbe whole seemed to be that
she was now without an engagement Before tbe late disputes
it seems she bad articled^^ for three yeais at tbe rate of 300Z.
a year, although anoihei player there received for seven
years 500 guineas After tbe revolt and tbe return to their
duties, ofiEeis were made to ber by both bouses, and she
accepted those of Covent Gaiden It was always tbe custom,
she said, that when an actor was discharged, or bis allowance
lessened, be received official notice at tbe end of tbe season,
and this was given in tbe case of all save herself, and she
only learned tbe fact by finding herself out of tbe bills at tbe
commencement of tbe new season. Tbe manager, indeed,
might consider that be could treat bis actors like servants,
but servants, she urged, bad thousands of other places to go
to, actois bad only tbe two theatres She then makes tbe
following spirited and temperate statement of ber merits and
services

I am sorry I am reduced to say anything in favour of
myself, but as I think I merit as much as another performer,
and the managers are so desirous to convince me of the
contrary, I hope I shall be excused, especially when I declare
that at this time I am not in tbe least vam of my profession.

I may venture to affirm that my labour and application have
been gi’eater than any other pei formers I have not only
acted m almost all the plays but in farces and musical enter-
tainments, and very frequently two parts in a night, even to
the pre]udice of my health. I have been at a great expense
in mastei s for singing, for which article alone the managers
now give bl and 61 a week My additional expenses in
belonging to the theatre amount to upwards of 1001 a year,
in clothing and other necessaries, so that the pretended great
salary of lOZ and 12 Z a week aie not more than half that
amount, since the performances are only on three or four days
a week

I find (says the author of Theo Cibber^s Apology^’') by our
theatrical squabbles and altercations we make as much amuse-
ment to the town in a morning as by our performance in
an evening The contentions for the part of Polly between
Mrs Clive and my late — I was going to say wife — but a late
woman who was called by my name. That contest, I remark,
furnished a copious topic for conversation, argument, and
publication, and ended with noise and uproars in the play-
house There has been the same thing practised by Monsieur
Denoyer and Mademoiselle Roland, and before by Monsieur
Poitier and Mademoiselle Roland, versus Messieurs Quin and
Fleetwood, and yet another, which made not a little noise,
between the two Harlequins, Messieurs Philips and Wood-
ward The consequence of all these addresses has been this
the town is called into the playhouse, as the dernier ressort^ to
judge of things.

Ohetwood thus quaintly sketches this spirited performer

This celebrated natural actress was the daughter of
Mr William Eaftor, a gentleman born m the city of Kilkenny
in Ireland The father of her father was possessed of a con-
sideiable paternal estate in the county where he was born;
but the parent of our actress being unhappily attached to the
unfoitunate King James the Second, the late Revolution gave
it, among many others, to the Crown Mr. James Eaftor, her
brother, went over to Ireland some years ago in order to solicit
for his grandfather^s fortune, but did not meet with success.

VOL II. L

138 A ISTEW HISTOEY 0 ¥ THE ENGLISH STAGE

Mr William Eaftor, tte father^ was bred to the law; how-
ever, when King James was in Ireland he enteied into his
service, and after the decisive Battle of the Boyne m the year
1690, he followed his master^s fortune, and by his merit
obtained a captam^s commission in the service of Louis the
Eourteenth , but gaining a pardon, with many other gentlemen
in his condition, he came to England, where he married
Mrs Daniel, daughter of an eminent citizen on Fish Stieet
Hill, with whom he had a handsome fortune By her he had
a numerous issue Miss Catherine was born in the year 1711,
She had an early genius for the stage, for she told me, when
she was about twelve yeais old. Miss Johnston (afterwaids the
first wife of Mr Theo Gibber, another rising genius, if death
had not ovei taken her m her prime of youth) and she used to
tag after the celebrated Mr Wilks (her own words) whenever
they saw him m the stieets, and gape at him as a wonder
Miss Eaftoi had a facetious turn of humour and infinite
spirits, with a voice and manner in singing songs of pleasantry
peculiar to herself Those talents, Mr Theo Cibber and I (we
all at that time living together in one house) thought a suflBi-
cient passport to the theatre We recommended her to the
Laureate, whose infallible judgment soon found out her excel-
lencies, and the moment he heaid her sing put her down in
the list of performers at 20^ per week. But never any person
of her age flew to perfection with such rapidity , and the old
discerning managers always distinguished meiit by reward.
Her first appearance was m the play of Mithridates, King
of Pontus,^^ in ^^Ismenes,^^ the page to Ziphares, in boy^s
cloaths, where a song proper to the circumstances of the scene
was introduced, which she performed with extraordinary
applause. But after this, like a bullet in the an, there was
no distinguishing the track till it came to its utmost execution.
I remember the first night of Love in a Eiddle (which was
murdered in the same year), a pastoial opera wrote by the
Laureate, which the hydra-headed multitude resolved to worry
without hearing, a custom with authors of merit, when Miss
Eaftor came on m the part of Phillida, the monstrous roar
subsided A person in the stage-box, next to my post, called
out to his companion in the following elegant style Zounds,
^r,yy^ fairA f>r this chaTminfiT little devil will save all/^

GARBIOK^S RI^E

139

In tlie year 1732 she was married to Mr G Olive^ son to
Mr Baron Olive I shall be silent in con]ugal affairs^ but in
all my long acquaintance with her I could never imagine she
deserved ill-usage I shall take leave of this excellent actress
with the following lines (as every part cannot fit the best
performers)

Merit mistaken oft may lose its way,

And pore in darkness with the blaze of day.

f erioh the Jfourth.

FEOM GAEEICK’S MAITAGEMENT TO HIS EETrElMEHT,

1747-1776.

CHAPTER I
gireick: as manager.

Now, at last, tlie fall of Fleetwood could be no longer averted.

We are now (says Mr. Victor) arrived to the year 1745,
when Mr Fleetwood (whose body was as much impaired by an
excessive gout as his fortune by his misconduct) began to think
of retreating from an employment he was no longer able to
appear in, and wished to retire to the south of France Having
abeady mortgaged the patent to Sir John de Loime and one
Mr Masters for 3000Z, he took up 7000Z more on the cloaths,
scenes, etc , of one Mr More, who was put into possession of
the house and treasury, that he might pay himself out of the
receipts, Mr Fleetwood having induced him to believe that
the said 7000Z would release the patent and satisfy all other
demands upon the theatre The truth was soon aftei revealed
by an advertisement, in which notice was given that the patent
was to be sold before a Master in Chancery Mr More,
offended at the chicanery he had met with, would advance no
more money , and, on the other hand, he wished to have the
patent to secure what he had advanced.

A significant comment on the extravagance of this fast
manager is furnished by a sale advertisement of that day

To be sold by auction, at Craven House, by Mr Tones, on
Thursday, May 1st, 1740, the rich household furniture of Charles
Fleetwood, Esq , at his house in Lincoln^s Inn Fields, consisting

144 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

of iicli Genoa damask^ all soits of furniture made m tke most
elegant manner^ a most valuable collection of original pictures
by the most celebrated masters, plate, china, and cuiiosities;
with books, most of them gilt-lettered and printed on large
paper The public may be assured that this is a genuine sale

There is one scene which adds a tragic interest to the fate
of this ruined manager Mrs Howard, a lady who was later
mairied to the Duke of Norfolk, happened to be at Bruges
with a companion, daughter of a baronet* At the same place
was Mrs Fleetwood, herself a lady of good family, and
daughter to Lord Gerard Hearing that Mrs. Howard was m
the town, she went up on a visit and flung herself upon her
knees to ask pardon of Mrs Howard^s companion She had
prevented her son marrying this lady, to whom he was
attached, but who had little fortune She had married him to
a lady with much more, and he plunged into dissipation, ruined
himself by gambling, setting out first as a dupe, afterwaids
turning sharper At length he died unpitied and, it is said, of
a broken heart *

Lacy — ^‘‘a man of the name of Lacy” — is described
by Sir John Hawkins in a very contemptuous fashion.
Entering, it seems, into a sort of mountebank competition
with Orator Henley,^^ he had been delivering a sort of
profane lecture, which he called ^^Peter^s Visitation, and
soon attracted the attention of the authorities, who seized
and imprisoned him as a vagrant This was not of much
promise for the manager of a theatre. After which, the law
having silenced the Haymarket Theatre, he read lectures at
York Buildings, designed and erected the spacious building
for musical entertainments in Eanelagh Gardens at Chelsea,
and having sold it to one Burnaby, Esq,^^ for 4000L
premium, became an assistant-manager to Mr Eich.

* rinVA nf Knrfolk^a » Thoufflits. Essays.” etc

GAEEICK AS MAITAGEE

145

‘When the patent was advertised for sale, two reputable
persons in the City, strangers to Mr Lacy, came to a resolu-
tion to buy it, in case he, Mr Lacy, could be prevailed upon
to undertake the management of the company The terms
offeied were a loint partnership, they to lay down the whole
purchase-money and hold Mr Lacy^s third in mortgage, in
case it did not suit him to make his own deposit, till his share
of the profits should gradually discharge it A meeting o£
the paities followed, hut the very next day all was dis]ointed
again by the sudden indisposition of one of the contractors,
which rendered him incapable of carrying the affair into
execution, to^the great concern of Messrs Green and Amber^
bankers, who weie present at this meeting, and who were
to have been bankers to the theatre in case any surplus cash
had arisen from it To these gentlemen Mr. Lacy was not
unknown, and, after what had passed, it was but natural
for them to think of putting themselves m the citizens^ places.
They did so, and proposed the same conditions to Mr. Lacy,
provided he could prevail first on Mr Fleetwood to accept
of an annuity during the term of the patent, and secondly
on Ml More, to let his mortgage he Mr Lacy succeeded m
both Mr Moie acquiesced on having his security for the
former sum strengthened by the addition of the patent, and
Mr Fleetwood was very well satisfied to receive 600Z. a year
out of a wreck which, as to him, scarce appeared to be worth
saving And Messrs Green and Amber paid down 3200Z
for the patent They broke some time afterwards, and tKe
Ignorant and malicious were pleased to suimise that their
misfortunes were owing to this purchase, hut notbing could
be farther from the truth Messrs Green and Amber, being
receivers of taxes, were at that time accountable to the
Exchequer for about 20,000Z (of which 3200Z was but a small
part), and not being in a condition to answer so great a
demand, sunk under it

With the state of the kingdom that of the theatre sym-
pathised Thin audiences produce but thin receipts, debts
consequently were contracted Mr Lacy^s situation was now
become a very uneasy one, but his candour and integrity,
like the other’s courage and pei severance, carried him through
them all One attempt, indeed, was made to overturn him,

146 A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

wLicli, s'ervmg as a specimen of theatrical policy, may not
prove altogether unentertaining to the reader The mort-
gagee came one morning to the theatre, and, having collected
the company together, gave them to understand they were
to have no more salary that season. It was about the end
of January, and, according to the tenure of the mortgage,
there was but a small sum due to this gentleman at that
time This so unexpected a declaration greatly astonished the
actors

Intelligence was soon hroiight to Mr. Lacy of what had
passed, and he as soon applied to the mortgagee for an expla-
nation, announcing, as he had a right to do, that he, the
mortgagee, must abide by all consequences, he having no
power to issue any money either to actor or creditor but by
the direction of Mr Lacy, and being responsible to neither
for any debt or demand Struck with this representation, the
mortgagee seemed to be much concerned for his rashness, and
of his own accoid piomised to continue the seveial salaries,
without stopping 1 $, more during the season , and he kept
his word.

Early, however, in the following year the com se of events,
it was plain, was favourably preparing everything for the
coming of Garrick into management — ^one of the most fortu-
nate circumstances conceivable for the welfare of the British
stage Without his wholesome influence and sagacity, it is
difficult to realise what would have become of the interest of
the drama, for the patent, as was the case of Oovent Garden
later, was likely enough to become the prey of mere speculators,
or, at least, of common business men/^ Garnck was of the
race of genuine managers But though he was to become
Mr. Lacy’s partner and friend, their intercourse as manager and
actor had been rather stormy

A curious unpublished letter of the new actor, Garrick,
shows how eager his spirit was, and how combative The last
declaration of becoming a volunteer is characteristic

garuice: as manager

U7

I Rave received a most surprising epistle from Mi Lacy,
full of false accusations, many of ^em contiadictoiy, and inter-
speis'd with low weak calumny and defamation The con
junction of two evil planets last summer boded me no good,
but, trusting to the justice of my cause, I defy and despise their
influence . He has sent me an offer of oOOZ for three
years, to come into a general article, and be obliged to play
whenever he pleases , all which I have rejected I won^t agree
for three years , I will ha^ye the salaiy I have had hitherto, and
all my arrears shall be paid I am not able to act two principal
characters two nights successively in short, I promoted
the interest of the managers last season beyond my ability,
and when Mr Sheridan and Mrs Cibber did not play, I
did my utmost for the good of the house. . "When-
ever you hear any report that prejudices me, pray let me
know, and I will trouble you with a full answer to it . . I
write to you without connection or correction I am now in a
room full of brothers and sisteis, the gieaterpart is female,
and consequently more noisy and confounding. . Take pot-
luck with me when you please. 111 do the same with you, and
damn all formality between us The country is much
alarmed by the lebels, for my o'wn pait I have little fear of
^em, and intend offering my service as a volunteer, as I shall
have no other engagements upon me, and cannot be better
employed ^Till these gentlemen have done playing the
knave in the north, I can^t think of playing the fool

Mrs, Cibber, who was at this time trying to attach the
young actor to her interests, attempted to inflame him against
Lacy She could write to him with a pleasing vivacity la
December, 1745, she had proposed to play for raising soldiers
to put down the lebellion, and thus desciibes to her friend
Garrick how the proposal was met .

The advertisements against me have been found to be sent
to the printers by Mr Lacy^s porter, and, as I am assured,
are the united works of Lacy, Macklin, and Giffard , so much
wit, honesty, and good-nature can scarce be the product of a
single person. The morning my first advertisement came out.

148 A ISTEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

I wrote Lacy a very cml letter^ desiring to know if lie con-
sented to my proposal, also that he would acquaint me with
the charge of his house. He told my servant he was too
busy to send an answer , but half an hour after ten at night,
a dirty fellow came to my house, and left word I might do it,
but it must be put off a day longer than I proposed I heard
that night that the green-room was in an upioar I was cursed
with all the elegance of phrase that reigns behind the scenes,
and Mrs Clive swore she would not play the part of Lucy
The next morning Mr. Rich sent me an offer of his house,
that he would give the whole receipts to the veteran scheme,
and that he should always esteem it a great obligation done to
him , that he had sent to Mr Oibber, who promised he would
never come near the house during the rehearsals or perform-
ances, and that Mr Rich would answer with his life he should
keep his word so I concluded it the same day, which was
Sunday The next morning came out the advertisement of
my being a rigid Roman Catholic, etc The answer I made to
it might have been much better wrote, but I had nobody to
consult but myself Though Mr. Rich had no performance
at his house the night of ^^The Recruiting Officer, Drury
Lane playhouse was not above half full till the latter account ,
then it was a good house, but not near so great as we had all
last winter to ^^The Oiphan^^ He had built up the stage,
but as nobody came there, he shut in a flat scene to hide it,
and the next day he played ^^The Tender Husband to 15Z.

Besides the interest of a well-written letter, we have here
a lively sketch of life behind the scenes.

The chevalier whom Peregiine Pickle met in Pans, ciiticising
the English performers, declared to him ^^that then theatre
was adorned by one woman (referimg to Mrs Cibbei) whose
sensibility and sweetness of voice is such as I have never
observed on any other stage She has, besides, an elegance of
person and expression of features that wonderfully adapt her
for the most engaging characters. One of your goahoso’s
utterance is a continual sing-song, like the chanting of vespei Sj
and his action ? esemhles the heamnq of ballast into the hold of a

aABEICK AS MAITAGEE

149

ship In Eis outward deportment he seems to haye confounded
the ideas of dignity and insolence of mien^ acts the crafty,
cool, designing Crookback as a loud, shallow, blustering
Hector , nay, so ridiculous is the behaviour of him and Cassius
at their interview, that, setting boot to foot, and grinning at
each other with the aspect of two cobblers enraged, they
thrust then left sides together with repeated shocks, that the
hilts of then swords may clash for the entertainment of the
audience The despair of a great man this English -^sopiis
represents by heating his own forehead and bellowing like a
bull, indeed, in all his most interesting scenes performing
such stiange shakings of the head and other antic gesticula-
tions Such is the lively and graphic description of Smollett.

Mr Eiddle, Mr Greenes father-in-law, receivei for the
county of Bedford, had an extent in aid for about 16,OOOZ
against his son and his son^s paitner, and had attached their
property in the theatre He signified this design to Mr Lacy,
and dcsned him farther to transact the affair for him Mi
Lacy undertook it accordingly , and thinking Mr Garrick, on
account of his abilities and reputation, and Mr Moie, on
account of his connection with the theatre, the properest
persons to be applied to, made a tender of the two shares
Ml More leplied that Mr Garrick would not be concerned in
a thud pait, probably from an apprehension that the other
two proprietors might concur in laying him under disagreeable
restraints Mr Lacy then offered the shares to Mr Ellis of
the Tower, who had always been tampering with the theatres
But he would not give lOOOZ , he would not give 80OZ for it,
exclusive of the debts On this Mr Lacy made an offer
to Mr Eiddle to pay off the mortgage, as well as the
othei debts of the theatie, which together amounted to
12,000Z, exclusive of Mr Fleetwood^s annuity, if he would
30 m his interest with him in procuring a new patent, to
commence at the expiration of the old To this pro-
posal Mr Eiddle agreed, and Mr Lacy, m consequence,
became a suitor to his Grace the late Duke of Gi'afton, as

150 A ISTEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

Loid Chamberlain His grace^s reply was^ ^^Tbat be saw
no injury resulting from such a renewal to anybody,’^ He
promised to lay the affair befoie His Majesty

Lacy bad many gieat and powerful patrons besides Tbe
late Lady Burlington engaged tbe then Marquis of Hartington
to support bim witb all his interest , and to bis goodness be
owed tbe countenance of tbe late Duke of Devonshire bi^
father^ and tbe concurrence of tbe Treasury^ then under the
diiection of Mr. Pelham, who was not tbe less favourable to
him, because Mr Eoberts, bis secretary, lost no opportunity
of enforcing bis suit There was yet another circumstance,
which it IS not altogether improbable was of some little weight
in Mr Lacy^s scale It hath been often remarked that the
Duke of Grafton paid a particular legard to those families which
bad suffered in the cause of King Charles tbe First, and it was
not unknown to bis giace that the Lacys of Ireland, fiom
whom the gentleman we are speakmg of was descended, were
absolutely ruined by their attachment to that monarch , having
lost a vast estate and been forced to follow fortune in almost
all tbe different services of Europe *

Mr Lacy having thus carried his great point, was directed
by his prudence to Mr Garrick In his Eanelagh scheme,
it had been his misfortune to be yoked with a wicked one,
which was the reason of bis quitting it. Mr Garrick bad
money, reputation, and ability — all were requisites. Mr Lacy
made the advance , Mr Garrick, by the advice of his friends,
accepted it, and had bis name inserted in the new patent
Both were to be equal sharers in the profits, with an exception
to the consideiations allowed Mr Garrick as a peifoimer
It was in the year 1747 that their paitnership commenced,
and it has continued ever since with all the appearance of
harmony and friendship

The agreement between the new patentees was as follows

April 9, 1747

Agreement made tbe 9tb of April, 1747, between James
Lacy, of Great Queen Street, near Lmcoln^s Inn Fields, in tbe

* Another account states that he won the duke by attending on him when

aAEEICK AS MAE^AGEE

151

county of Middlesex, gentleman^ of tlie one part , and David
Grariick, of James Street, Oovent Garden, gentleman, of tlie
other part Whereas it is alleged by the said James Lacy
that he is possessed of or entitled unto the piesent patent
under which plays are exhibited at the theatre in Drury Lane,
in the county aforesaid, for the remainder of a term wheieof
there are now six years to come, and of and unto the scenes
and waidrobe belonging to or used at the said theatre, and
also to a lease of the said house or theatre for the remainder of
a term whereof there are now about five yeais to come, subject
neveitheless to a certain trust, incumbrances, and debts, viz.
A trust as to two equal third parts of the said patent, scenes,
wardrobe, and lease for Messrs Gieen and Amber, late of the
Strand, in the county aforesaid, bankers, or for their creditors.
A mortgage from the said Lacy to the said Green and Amber,
for 2250Z and interest, with a covenant for sharing any new
patent that should be obtained, the whole valued at 40007 A
mortgage to Hutchenson Meure, whereon the principal and
interest that will be due at the end of this acting season is
computed to amount to , The debts that will then lemain
due to the actois and performeis of the said theatre, also com-
puted at about . . . The debts that will then remain due to
the tradesmen, etc belonging to the said theatre, which are
also computed at about . The debts that will then remain
due fiom the said Lacy to others, and shall have been by him
borrowed and applied for discharging any of the arrears due
to the said actors, performers, and tradesmen, etc. since the end
of the last season, and which are also computed at about
An annuity of 300Z to Mr Oawthoipe An annuity of 5O0Z.
to Ohailes Fleetwood, Esq And whereas it is alleged by the
said James Lacy that he can and will before the end of the
next month proem e a new patent for twenty-one years to com-
mence fiom the expiration of the former, without any other
gratuity or expense than the common and ordinary fees, and to
be subject only to a like annuity of 300? to Mr Oawthoipe, or
some othei person, and that he can and will within the time afore-
said procure a good and sufficient assignment, release, or other
conveyance of all the right, title, and interest, both equitable
and legal, of the said Messrs Green and Amber, and of their
creditors, assigns, or representatives, and all other persons

152 A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

claiming under them m and to both the said patents, lease,
waidrobe, and scenes, for the said sum of 4000? And that all
the above-stated incumbrances (including the said 4000? , and
the common and ordinary fees of procuring the said new patent,
but exclusive of the said Mr Oawthorpe^s and Mr Fleetwood^s
annuities) will not exceed the sum of 12,000? in the whole.
Now it IS hereby agreed, that in case the said J ames Lacy shall
and does within the time aforesaid procure such a new patent,
on the terms aforesaid, in the ]Oint names of the said James
Lacy and David Ganick, and also such assignment, release, and
conveyance as aforesaid, on the terms aforesaid, to them the
said James Lacy and David Garrick , they the said James Lacy
and David Garrick, their executors, administrators, and assigns
shall, and will, from the end of this present acting season,
become, and be jointly and equally possessed of and interested
in the said two several patents, and the said lease, wardrobe,
and scenes, subject to the respective incumbrances aforesaid,
for the several teims that will remain and be in the said patents
respectively, but without any benefit of survivorship , and shall
and will enter into and execute proper articles of copartner-
ship for the carrying on and managing the business of the
said patents for their joint and equal benefit. And that as
soon as such new patent and right in the old patent, etc shall
be procured as aforesaid, the same shall be immediately con-
veyed to two persons, of which each of the said parties shall
name and appoint one, upon trust, as a security from each of
the said parties to the other for the peiformance of their re-
spective agreements and covenants, both in these presents and
in the said articles of copartnership to be contained That the
said mcumbiances on the said patents shall be paid off and
discharged as soon as may be, by and out of the profits to arise
in the said copartnership, or equally by and between the said
parties Provided, that in case the said incumbrances ^ex-
clusive of the said annuities) shall exceed the said sum of
12,000? the difference or excess shall be made good, paid and
discharged by the said James Lacy, or his assigns , or out of
his or their moiety of the said profits, and the said David
Garrick, and his assigns, and his or their moiety of the said
patents, etc are to be fully indemnified therefrom Provided

aAEEIOK AS MAJJ^AGEE

153

wise^ take and letam for tkeir private expenses, and under tke
title of managers, out of tke money to be m the hands of the
treasurer or cashier of the said copaitneiship, any sum not
exceeding the rate of 500Z per annum each Provided also,
that in case the piofits shall at any time fall short of the said
two sums of 500Z per annum, to each of the said parties, and
either of the said shall, notwithstanding, have occasion for and
actually draw out or receive on account of the said allowance,
more than his share of the net profits then in the treasury or
office shall amount unto, then and in every such case the said
party shall be made debtor for the sums by him so drawn out
or received, togethei with legal interest, until his share of the
net profits shall be sufficient to answer the same, and in the
meantime his share of the patent, etc shall stand charged there-
with as a security to the other of the said parties Provided
also, and it is expressly agreed, that the said David Garrick
shall have and be paid a clear salary of 500 guineas per annum
as an actor, with a clear benefit, or shall have such better
terms as shall at any time during the said copartnership be
given to any actor or actress , but the said David Gariick shall
not, during the time of his being interested in the said patents,
or either of them, act or perform, except for the joint benefit
of the parties concerned in the said patents Piovided also,
that in settling the incumbrances aforesaid, the said James Lacy
IS to account for the receipts of this present season, it being
the intent of the parties that the arrears due to the actors,
performers, and tiadesmen at the end of the last season are to
be the bases of their respective accounts, from or to which the
profits or loss of this present season aie to be respectively
snbti acted or added Piovided also, that if either party shall
discharge any of the said debts or incumbrances, or lend or
advance any money to or for the said copartnership more than
the other of the said parties, then and m every such case the
party so lending or advancing shall have and be allowed legal
interest in the account of the said copartnership until the other
party shall have advanced his proportion Provided also, that
if either paity shall he minded to sell or dispose of his share the
other party shall have the refusal thereof at such a price as two
persons, one to he named by each party, shall value the same
at. Lastly, if any dispute or difference shall happen, the same

154 A ITEW HISTOEY OF THE EHOLISH STAGE

to be referred to two arbitrators to be named witbm twenty-
four boars.

Under tbe management of Messrs. Garrick and Lacy tbe
new Theatre Eoyal;, Drury Lane; opened on September 15tb.
They had been untiring in their labouiS; altering and remodel-
ling the house and making new approaches. Lacy; the
prompter tells nS; showed as much address in altering the
accommodation as he would have done about his patent; and
the house was contrived to hold 40Z more than before; while
the lax system of admissions was duly controlled by a system
of tickets; so that the old whipping and frisking in and out
was abolished Eeform upon the stage was even more needed

At the bottom of bills for September 15th to October 17th
appeared this notice As the admittance of persons behind
the scenes has occasioned a general complaint on account of
the frequent mteriuption to the performances; it is hoped
gentlemen will not be offended that no money will be taken
for the future

In the year 1749 an extraordinary advertisement appeared
in the papers. It was inci edible that such folly should be
accepted .

At the new theatre in the Haymarket; on Monday next^
the 16th instant; to be seeu; a person who performs the
several most surprising things following — viz first; he takes a
common walking-cane fiom any of the spectators, and thereon
plays the music of every instrument now in usO; and likewise
sings to surprising perfection Secondly; he presents you
with a common wine-bottle, which any of the spectators may
first examine , this bottle is placed on a table in the middle of
the stage, and he (without any equivocation) goes into it in
sight of all the spectatois, and sings in it, during his stay m
the bottle any person may handle it, and see plainly that it
does not exceed a common tavern bottle Those on the stage
or in the boxes may come in masked habits (if agreeable to

GAEEICK AS MAUnTAGEE.

155

To begin at half an hour after sis o^clock Tickets
to be had at the theatie The perfoimance continues
about two houis and a half NB If any gentleman
or lady, after the above performance (either singly or in
company, m or out of mask), aie desiious of seeing a repre-
sentation of any deceased peison, such as husband or wife,
sister or brothei, or any intimate fiiend of either sex, upon
making a giatuity to the performer, shall be gratified by
seeing and conveising with them for some minutes, as i£
alive, likewise (if desired), he will tell you the most secret
thoughts in your past life , and give you a full view of persons
who have injured you, whether dead or alive For those
gentlemen and ladies who are desirous of seeing this last
pait, there is a private room provided These performances
have been seen by most of the crowned heads of Asia, Africa,
and Europe, and never appeared public anywhere but once ;
but will wait at any of their houses and perform as above for
hi each time There will be a proper guard to keep the
house in due decorum

This, as IS well known, was a hoax of the Duke of
Montague^s, which ended m the wrecking of the theatre,
all the furniture being dragged out and burnt in the street,
the curtam of the stage being hoisted on a pole.

By the remarkable notice at the bottom of the bills,
which became for years a standing advertisement, Grarrick
banished all the young bloods.'’^ It is extraordinary that so
cultivated and well-graced a player should not have thought of
yet another reform upon his boards, viz that of costume , and,
as can be seen from Zoffany^s pictures in the Garrick Club, we
have him in Macbeth in a bob wig, vivid scarlet breeches,
laced with gold, and a gray coat, looking like the Lord
Mayor^s coachman, or as Jaffier, in Venice Preserved,^^ with
an equally familiar and un-Venetian dress.*

* Too mucli insistence, however, has been laid on tins point The eye of the
andience, fiom habit, is not disturbed I confess it seems to me that the
discreoanov is less nnder snoh conditions than when there is an elaborate and

156 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

Tate Wilkinson tells ns :

But the gentlemen and ladies in modern-dressed tragedies,
foity years ago, at Oovent Garden Theatre, wore the old laced
clothes which had done many years^ service at Lmcoln^s Inn
Fields, besides having graced the original wearers , and the
ladies were in large hoops, and the velvet petticoats, heavily
embossed, proved extremely inconvenient and troublesome, and
always a page behind to hear the lovers^ secrets and keep the
train in graceful decorum If two princesses met on the stage,
with the frequent stage-crossing then practised, it would now
seem truly entertaining to behold a page dangling at the tail
of each heroine I have seen Mrs Woj0S.ngton dressed in high
taste for Mrs Phillis, for then all ladies^ companions or gentle-
women’s gentlewomen actually appeared in that style of dress ;
nay, even the comical Olive dressed her chambermaids, lappet,
lettice, etc. in the same manner About twenty years ago
there was an old wardrobe I found in the ruins of my theatrical
Herculaneum, and which was of great antiquity, and had
appertained to Eoman emperors, kings, etc , when not a
performer, lady or gentleman of the London theatres, but
would have mvoluntaiily laughed at the old broad seams of
gold and silver lace, and have cast piteous and contemptuous
looks on the country performers thus loaded with tiumpery
Yet those despicable clothes had, at different periods of time,
bedecked real lords and dukes, and were bought at much less
price than now , and would produce, by one day^s labour of
stripping merely the old materials, 40Z or 50Z to provide a
supper if the stomach required An old petticoat, made for
a large hoop of the Duchess of Northumberland, thirty ye^rs
ago, would have served a queen in the theatre several years,
then descended to a Duchess of Suffolk, afterwards made two
handsome tragedy shapes for an old rich Spaniard I have
now worn occasionally, by comedians, for old characters of
wealth, a suit of purple cloth, with gold vellum holes, that I
frequently wore when a young man as a fashionable dress, and
spoke the prologue to the author, gave tea, etc on the London
stage, and after that used it as my common dress to parade the
streets at noon At that time no more than two or three
nnncipal characters (at Oovent Garden in particular) were well

GABEICK AS MAl^AGEB

157

diessed^ and tliose not with, any variety as now Mrs Woffing-
ton^s wardrobe had only the increase of one tragedy suit in the
course of the season^ in addition to the clothes allotted to her,
unless she indulged herself, and she had a new suit for Sir
Harry Wildair.

Another sketch of Quints costume

What would our modern beaux think of young Chamont,
as I have seen Mr Quin act it at the age of sixty ^ He was
equipped in a long, grisly, half-powdered periwig, hanging low
down on each side of the breast and down the back, a heavy
seal let coat and waistcoat trimmed with broad gold lace, black
velvet breeches, a black silk neckcloth, black stockings, a pair
of squaie-toed shoes, with an old-fashioned pair of stone
buckles , and the youthful, the fiery Ohamont adorned himself
with a pair of stiff high-topped white gloves, with a
broad old scollop -laced hat, which, when taken off the
head, and having pressed the old wig, and viewing his fair
round belly with fat capon lined, he looked like Sir J ohn Brute
in the di unken scene Old Ryan was the stiong and lusty
Polydore, with a red face and voice truly horrible, which, like
Portia, you might quickly have distinguished He knows me, as
the blind man does the cuckoo, by my bad voice , and by them
stood Mr Barry, in Oastalio,^^ m a neat bag wig, then of the
newest fashion, m his bloom and prime of life, and was certainly
one of the handsomest men ever seen on or off the stage, with
Mrs Cibber, all elegance and neatness, by his side as Monimia.
The sight of the two ancient heroes of antiquity made such a
contiast in the quartette that it struck even my features at the
age of eleven with iisibility

The course of Garrick^s management was to be marked by
some of the most admirable and lasting contributions to the
list of steiling comedies. To these belong ^^The Suspicions
Husband, by Hoadley, Oolman^s admiiable Jealous Wife,^^
one of the best acting pieces in the language, “The Clandestine
Marriage,” in which, however, the manager had a share.

158 A ISTEW HISTOBT OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

Murpliy^s The Way to Keep and other comedies. It

would be an interesting speculation to trace all that has
influenced or shaped English comedy One would be inclined
to lay its foundation to the persistent translation^ adaptation^
and imitation of Moli&’e^ some form of whose humour seems
to flayour pieces of this cast. ^^The School for Scandal/^
however, reflects the more artificial style of Congreve During
these later days there is no English school of writing We are
helplessly dependent on our neighbours. It may be added
that there has always been a taste for tragedy, taking shape
as poetical drama, and for long-drawn-out recited plays in
blank vei'se This has literally obtained from the days of
Dryden, and was continued all through last century in such
depiessing works as ^^The Fall of Apuleia,^^ ^^Oleone,^^
^‘The Siege of Damascus, ^^Agis,^^ ‘^The Fall of Saguntum/^
etc , in which who could take interest ? The taste was
transferred to works of the gloomy German school at
the beginning of the piesent century, ^^The Stranger,^^
Pizarro,^^ etc., but was restored again to much favour by
Sheridan Knowles and Lord Lytton, and even in our time is
maintained m such pieces as Charles the First and
Eugene Aram.^^ But this sub3ect, interesting as it is, would
need a treatise to itself

The Gamester ” had been an attempt at the new treatment
of a dramatic story, and curiously suggests the introduction of
the romantic style in opposition to the classical, introduced a
hundred years later by Dumas in Paris ^^The Gamester
was written chiefly in prose, and the tone was pitched very
low , there being a display of the more vulgar earthly passions
of everyday grief and suffering, caused by everyday motives
There was nothing heroic. Hence it resembled George
Barnwell, and though the spectators could hardly control

gaeeioe: as managee

159

standards EitEerto in favour This opens up a very interesting
question whether, after all, this high-pitched treatment is
not necessary for the stage^ to sustain the interest — whether
the principle of something unusual and exceptional, both
in story and treatment, would not be more in keeping
with the conditions of the stage itself than the incidents of
ordinary life Such was Johnson^s view He thinks a
tragedy in prose undramatic; ^^it is dij0B.cult for pei formers
to speak it, that the lowest^ when impassioned, raise their
language , and that the writing of prose is generally the plea
or excuse of poverty of genius/^ It might be added that the
language of agitation is more or less heroic, save of course in
the case of the lowest classes.

A view of the stage during the middle of the century
offers a spectacle of rude and familiar shifts , but at the same
time it is impossible not to see that the deficiency was sup-
plied by the interest in the performers and their acting It
seemed as though such surroundings and the illusion was not
thought necessary, and it is certain that the acting was
finer at the season when scenery was deficient, and vice veisd.
The right of admission to the stage or behind the scenes, then
a privilege of almost any well-dressed person, gave an opening
for free-and-easy manners. It, moreover, showed the con-
spicuous figure made by the individual actor or actress in
society On a benefit-night, which was simply a mode of pre-
senting money to a favourite, all attempts at illusion were set
aside.

The theatres (says Wilkinson) formerly were not large
enough on such occasions, as frequently, on the benefit of a
Woodward, a Mrs. Gibber, a Shuter, and others, was the case,
therefore the following advertisement appeared at the bottom
of each playbill on any benefit of consequence Part of the
pit will be railed into the boxes ; and for the better accom-
modation of the ladies, the stage will be formed into an

160 A FEW HISTOHY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.

ampliitlieatre^ where servants will be allowed to keep places
When a great house was not sufficiently ascertained (as the
performer judged) for the places taken and the tickets sold, at
the bottom of the bill was N B — Not any building on the

stage What was termed building on the stage certainly
was the greatest nuisance that ever prevailed over an enter-
tainment But, my kind reader^ suppose an audience behind
the curtain up to the clouds, with persons of a menial cast
on the ground, beaux and no beaux crowding the only entrance,
what a play ifc must have been whenever Romeo was breaking
open the supposed tomb, which was no more than a screen on
those nights set up, and Mrs Oibber prostrating herself on
an old couch, covered with black cloth, as the tomb of the
Capulets, with at least (on a great benefit-night) two hundred
persons behind her, which formed the background. Nay, the
stage, which was not thirty years ago near so wide as at
present, also the stage-doors (which must be well remembered)
and the stage-boxes, before which there were false canvas,
inclosed fronts on each side of two or three seats, on to the
lamps, for ladies of distinction, which rendered it next to
impossible for those ladies in the stage-boxes to see at all , but
still it was the fashion, and therefore of course charming and
delightful, and whenever a Don Choleric in ^^The Fop^s
Fortune,^^ or Sir Amorous Vainwit in Woman^s a Riddle,^^
or Charles, in The Busybody,^^ tried to find out secrets or
plot an escape from a balcony, they always bowed and thrust
themselves into the boxes over the stage-door amidst the
company, who were greatly disturbed, and obliged to give up
their seats.

At Quints benefit, in 1753, it was announced . The part
of Falstaff will be performed by Mr. Quin,^^ which was his
last night of performing The stage was at 5^ , pit and
boxes all joined together at 5s There was only one entrance
on each side of the stage, which was always particularly
crowded. Affronting the audience was one of the darling de-
lights, particularly offending the galleries, and thereby incur-
ring the displeasure of the gods, who showed their resentment
by dispersing golden showers of oranges and half-eaten
pippins, to the infinite terror of the ladies of fashion seated

GAERIOK AS MA:N'AG-EE.

161

The stage spectators were not content with piling on
raised seats^ till their heads reached the theatrical cloudings^
which seats were closed in with dirty worn-ont scenery^ to
enclose the painting round from the first wing^ the mam
entrance being up steps from the middle of the back scene,
but when that amphitheatre was filled, there would be a group
of ill-dressed lads and persons sitting on the stage in front,
three or foui rows deep, otherwise those who sat behind
could not have seen, and a not would have ensued, so, in
fact, a performer on a popular night could not step Ins foot
with safety, lest he either should thereby hurt or offend, or be
thrown down amongst scores of idle tipsy apprentices

Mr Quin, aged sixty-five, with the heavy dress of Falstaff
(notwithstanding the impatience of the audience to see their
old acquaintance), was several minutes before he could pass
through the numbers that wedged and hemmed him in Mrs.
Gibber, ai rayed for Juliet, in a full white satin dress, with the
then indispensable large hoop, m all her pomp of woe, thus
shaken and taken prisoner as it were by foes sarcastic and
baibaious ’

During the Covent G-arden pantomime this abuse was not
tolerated, and notice was given As any obstructions in the
movements of the machinery will gieatly prejudice the per-
formance of the entertainment, it is hoped that no gentle-
man will take it amiss the being refused admittance behind the
scenes. Ladies are requested to send their servants by three
o^ clock N B — There will not be any building on the stage

When Rich, after two or three years^ piomise and delay,
brought forth one of these long-wished-for pantomimes, it
was a rage , a madness incredible seized all the Londoners.
On such fortunate occurrences Mr Rich was strongly attached
and tenderly tenacious of his harlequin jacket being piofaned
or infringed upon, and kept his holy rites and mysteries of
serpents, lions, Druids, etc sacred from the inspection of
all cuiious prying inspectors Nor would he have had Ins
magical swoid interrupted, or his fountains and cascades
stopped in their munificent flow

One of the remarkable reforms introduced by the good
taste of Garrick, almost as soon as he enteied on manage-

162 A KEW HISTOKY OF THE EHQLISH STAOE

ment^ was tlie yery simple one of producing Shakespeare’s
Macbeth’^ The play, as prepared’^ by Davenant, bad
been only tolerated, being fashioned into a soit of opera^ while
abundance of business” was introduced. Lady Macbeth
invites hei husband to resign his crown

There has been too much blood alieady spilt
Make not your subjects victims to your guilt.

Macbeth.

Eesign my crown ^ — and with it both our lives.

I must have better counsellors.

Lady Macbeth

What your witches ^

Curse on your messengers of hell ^ Their breaths
Infected first my breath See me no more
As king your crown sits heavy on your head,

But heavier on my heart I have had too much
Of kings already See the ghost again ^

The players smiled contemptuously when they heard of the
new reading. Even Quin had been said to have asked in
astonishment What ’ do not I play ^ Macbeth ^ as written
by Shakespeare ? ” And when he heard Gairick declaiming

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac’d loon.
Where got^st thou that goose-look ^

he asked him where lie had found such strange language.
Garrick, however, added a dying speech ” for himself But
he had not the courage to reform the dress. Macklm had,
however, preceded him in restoring Shakespeare. A very
interesting review might be made of the various attempts at
fitting Shakespeare, and, in justice to managers, it should be
remembered that it is almost impossible to present Shakespeare
on the stage without arrangement and alteration of some kind ,
and until audiences are not educated up to the appreciation
of Shakespeare, this course must be followed The managers

gaeriok: as mahagee.

163

of leveience and judgment will proceed much as Mozart
did when adding orchestration unknown in HandeFs day to
the score of the Messiah Oibher^s Eichard certainly de-
serves praise as a spirited and workmanlike, though irieveient
attempt, and it has helped, in its rough way, to carry a taste
for the hard into country audiences The hne, with

his head, so much for Buckingham * is still taken by many
to be Shakespeare^s

A year latei Garrick brought out Johnson’s single dramatic
effort, well remembered as a comparative failure *

Nor was this all that the actor did for his fiiend. A
ponderous and much-laboured tragedy was in Johnson^s desk,
hopelessly inferior to the prologue, and this was brought out
with ceitain failure It was certainly no woise than “The
Pall of Saguntnm,^^ The Siege of Apuleia,^^ and such things.
But we might have hoped better things from Johnson.

Eichardson, in an unpublished letter, dated January, 1749,
gives a short sketch of the diiBhculties connected with this
play

As to Mr Garrick, give me leave to say what I know,
which is, that he was actually long ago engaged in Iren©
The author was his tutor (Dr Johnson), and it was expected
to come on last season. Garrick had also engaged to Mr
Lyttleton that no new play should be acted during the run

PfiOFITS OF IRENE*’ FOR NINE NIGHTS

£

s

d

Third night’s receipts

177

1

6

Sixth „ „

106

4

0

Kinth „ „

101

11

6

S84

17

0

Charges of the house

189

0

0

Profit .

195

17

0

Copyright

100

0

0

^295

17

0

164 A NEW HISTORY OF THE USTOLISH STAGE

of Oonolanus ” There was ill-will between Mr Thomson
and Mr Garrick on the scoie of Mr Qain and of that play,
and Mr. Garrick was glad of an opportunity to regain
Mr Lyttleton^s opinion by such a promise Mr, Millar got
me one evening last week to look upon some scenes of
Merope^^ at his house I took no notice of having seen it,
but read some parts of it, as new to me, and that before his
wife and her sister, two intelligent women

But Johnson, if he failed in this department, to which he
was unsuited, had aheady enriched diamatic literature with
the masteily prologue with which Garrick opened his theatre
This excellent piece was actually a leview of the history of
the stage, as well as a prophecy The sonoious music of its
opening lines will be welcome here, especially as it is a
contribution to the history of the stage

When Learning's triumph o^er her baibVous foes
Fust reared the stage, immoital Shakespeaie rose;

Each change of many-coloured life he drew,

Exhausted worlds, and then imagined new
Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign,

And panting Time toiled after him in yam
His poweiful strokes presiding Truth impressed.

And uniesisted passion stormed the breast
Then J onson came, insti ucted from the school
To please in method and invent by rule,

His studious patience and laboiious art.

By regular approach essayed the heart
Cold approbation gave the lingering bays ,

For those who durst not censuie scarce could praise.

A mortal born, he met the general doom,

But left, like Egypt^s kings, a lasting tomb
The wits of Charles found easier ways to fame,

Noi wished for Jonson^s art, or Shakespeare^s flame.
Themselves they studied, as they felt they wiit.
Intrigue was plot, obscenity was wit
Vice always found a sympathetic friend.

They pleased their age, and did not aim to mend

aAEEICK AS MANAGEE.

Yet bards like these aspired to lasting praise,

And proudly hoped to pimp in future days.

Their cause was general, their supports were strong ;
Their slaves were willing, and their reign was long ,
Till Shame regained the post that Sense betrayed.
And Virtue called Oblivion to her aid

Then oiushed by rules, and weakened as refined.
For years the power of tragedy declined ,

From bard to bard the frigid caution crept,

Till declamation roared, whilst passion slept ,

Yet still did Virtue deign the stage to tread.
Philosophy remained, though Nature fled
But forced at length her ancient reign to quit.

She saw great Faustus lay the ghost of wit ;
Exulting Folly hailed the joyous day,

And pantomime and song confirmed her sway
But who the coming changes can presage.

And mark the future peiiods of the stage ^

Peihaps if skill could distant times explore,

New Behns, new Duifeys, yet remain in stoie ;
Perhaps where Lear has raved, and Hamlet died,

On flying cars new soicereis may ride,

Perhaps (for who can guess the effects of chance
Here Hunt may box, or Mahomet may dance.

Hard is his lot that here by fortune placed,

Must watch the wild vicissitudes of taste ,

With every meteor of capuce must play,

And chase the new-blown bubbles of the day
Ah ^ let not censure term our fate our choice.

The stage but echoes back the public voice ;

The drama*s laws the drama^s patrons give,

For we that live to please must please to live.

Then prompt no moie the follies you decry,

As tyrants doom their tools of guilt to die ,

^Tis yours this night to bid the reign commence
Of rescued Nature and reviving Sense ;

To chase the charms of sound, the pomp of show,
For useful mirth and salutary woe ,

Bid scenic Virtue from the rising age.

And Truth diffuse her radiance from the stage.

166 A 'Emr HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

Jo1liisoii‘’s anticipations — ^which were tlie manager's also —
were veij soon to be realised. It was found that the classical
drama unsupported did not Q^^d that Riches pantomimes

were ever a superior attraction, Garrick^ a man of business,
and thoroughly practical, prepared to favour this taste, though
he did not go so far as a modern manager, who professes that
anyone conducting a theatre must offer such wares only as the
public will buy or desire to buy, the answer to which is that
a manager of taste will get the public to buy what he has to
sell Garrick was compelled to turn to shows of vaiious kinds,
pantomimes, operas, ballets, etc , and was certainly successful
in the former

About this time we find the veteran Cibber wilting a lively
and also a desponding letter, the first to his friend Victor, at
Dublin It was natural, indeed, that one of so old and good a
school should not relish the new actor^s success He was fond
of uttering sarcastic comments on him, which the other took
good-humouredly.

The Vale, November 21st, 1749

Deah SiPv,

Mr. Dyer is in Oovent Garden house, to whom, at Mrs.
Woffington^s desire, I twice read the part of Tom in ^^The
Conscious Lovers He acquitted himself with a good deal of
natural spirit, and in that style piomises to be a very useful
actor His singing, too, gave a good deal of surprise and
pleasuie As to our four theatres, which are but sparingly
adorned with the wonderful, their state is thus 1. Drury Lane
and Garrick bear the bell 2 Rich lives, but seldom runs
over. 3 The French theatre is tolerably French, but the
Fiench plays I never had any great opinion of their comedies
want humour, and their tragedies credible nature , that is, they
are heavily romantic. There was a monstrous tumult of mob
the fiist night, which seemed to threaten a total demolition,
but the young men of quality, who did not choose to be inter-
rupted in any diversion that had the royal hcence, broke their

headsj kicked, cuffed, and turned them in a lump out of the
house They have acted thiee times since m the utmost
tianquillity, and with more applause than probably they would
have met with had they at first set out with their naked merit.
4 The Italian burletta (which is not so well perfoimed as last
yeai) had but a poor house the first day, and, I believe, like a
sickly plant, will die before it takes any great root among us.
When does the next volume of our poor deviFs memoirs come
out ^ and what is become of her ^ I don^t know how it is
with you, but I am tired, though still as usual.

Tour El lend and humble Servant,

Colley Oibbee.

Of a more pathetic inteiest is the letter written when the
veteran play-writer and comedian fancied the end was not far
off It IS dated December 25th, 1750

Though Death (he writes) has been cooling his heels at my
door these three weeks, I have not had time to see him The
daily conveisation of my friends have kept me so agieeably
alive, that I have not passed my time better a gieat while. If
you have a mind to make one among us, I will order Death to
come another day To be serious, I long to see you, and hope
you will take the fiist opportunity And so, with as merry a
Chiistmas and as many New Years as your heart can hope for,
I am, Your real Friend and Servant,

0. Cibber.

After a number of years, passed in the utmost ease, gaiety,
and good-humour, he departed this life, at Islington

For his son Theo a less peaceful ending was in store His
turbulent miserable life had, as we have seen, culminated in
disgrace , and having taken an action for damages against the
person who had taken away his wife, and laying his damages
at 5000? , he only received 10? , by which the discredit of his
own behaviour was marked This was virtually his ruin He is
thus made to describe his sufferings in the supposed ^^Apology”;

This actor returned to his employment to do his duty, and
get his hvehhood at the theatre The night came on he was

168 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

to appear , and tEo^ it Ead been bruited about tEe town tEat
tEere was a veiy virtuous party formed to drive him off the
stage, Ee paid little regaid to this lumour, conscious of Eis
innocence But the poor devil found Eimself mistaken The
house was very early crowded, and the harmonious discordant
conceit of catcalls, whistles, etc etc began to play before
the curtain diew up Well, though the actors were all
frightened, the play began with calmness and applause, but
this was only a prelude to the battle when the scene came
in which Ee was to appear, there was a dead silence till Ee
popped Eis poor head fiom behind the scenes Then at once
the hurley-builey began , volleys of apples and potatoes, and
such vile trash, flew about Eis ears He retired, the stoim
subsided , Ee advanced, it began again In the most humble
gesture and address Ee made a motion to be heard , it was all
in vain, and he was once more pelted off But what can
describe, in those dreadful moments, the anguish of Eis heart ^
Who can conceive the various agitations of his soul ^ Grief,
rage, resentment, horror, despair, mix’d with resolution, were
all at once fermenting in Eis bosom , but determined to go
through the play, he went through it amidst the greatest
uproar that ever was heard so long a space in a theatre This
could be borne, and Ee knew it would die away of itself But
on a trial in relation to Eis wife’s infamy, something gave
offence to a noble colonel in the army, who, to revenge a
suppos’d affront, raised a posse against the actor, and from the
boxes began a new attack, and were determin’d he should
appear no more on the stage till he had given the gentleman
satisfaction by making a pubhck recantation All attempts
were made to get over this , some of the royal family came,
but their presence was not thought of sanction enough to curb
the insolence of some people, and an obscure thing of an actor
performing his part He was at last foic’d, out of prudential
reasons, not from any conviction of his error, to give the
colonel the satisfaction of a pubhck recantation , and so that
affair diopp’d.

To this unhappy life there was to be a most tragic termi-
nation Sheridan, making [one final struggle to restore his
bankrupt theatre in Dublin, had engaged him together with a

num'ber of otHers^ including Maddox, the celebrated wire-
dancer^^ Tbese persons, with all the apparatus for a new
pantomime, were embarked. They were shipwrecked in some
terrible gales on the Scotch coast j a few were saved, but all
the professionals were lost, and a box containing the luckless
Theo’s papers drifted ashore. This took place the year after
his father’s death His wife survived till the year 1766, being
buried in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey, those being the
days of careless and highly tolerant deans. One who knew
her thus describes her Her person was perfectly elegant ;
for although she somewhat declined beyond the bloom of youth,
and even wanted that embonpoint which sometimes is assistant
in concealing the impression made by the hand of Time, yet
there was so complete a symmetry and proportion in the
different parts which constituted this lady's form, that it was
impossible to view her figure and not think her young, or look
in her face and not consider her handsome. Her voice was
beyond conception plaintive and musical, yet far from deficient
in powers for the expression of resentment or disdain, and
with the most equal command of feature for the representation
of pity or rage, of complacence or disdain "

It should be here noted what a command of discriminating
terms the critic then possessed It would be a matter nowadays
of the nicest art to analyse, in]udicious fitting language — ^so as
to give an idea to those who had never seen the person — the
numerous and special charms of Miss Terry's acting

Her health was so precarious, and she was so subject to
frequent relapses, that the newspapers ranked her amongst the
dead near three months sooner than her decease. About a
month before her death the King commanded the comedy of
^^The Provoked Wife." She was then indisposed, but was
supposed to be recovering some degree of health, nothing
could prevent her paying her duty to the King and Queen by
playing the part of Lady Brute The acting this part when

VOL. II N

170 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

lier liealtli was so infiim, some people beliered to be tbe cause
o£ ber death , but the truth is, she had been strongly pressed to
bathe in sea-water^ to which she had a most fixed aversion ;
however, she complied with the advice of a very eminent and
skilful physician, and that compliance precipitated her death
She died the 30th of Januaiy, 1766 A gentleman, who was
111 company with Mi Garrick when the news of her death was
brought, heaid him pronounce her eulogium in the following
words “ Then tragedy expired with her, and yet she was the
gieatest female plague belonging to my house I could easily
parry the artless thrusts and despise the coarse language of
some of my other heroines, but whatever was Oibber^s object,
a new part or a new diess, she was always sure to cany her
point by the acuteness of her invective and the steadiness
of her peiseveiance^^ Indeed, she most commonly used to
be dressed in man^s clothes even in piivate life, the reason
of which she affects to make a mystery of.

Nor did this disastrous exhaust the misfortune of the
family Colley Cibber had also a daughter, Charlotte, who
married one Charke This woman entered on a course of
strange adventures, living all her life from hand to mouth,
trying the stage, hack- writing, and at last writing a novel,
finishing her conise, like Mrs Bellamy, Mrs Baddeley, and so
many others, in absolute squalor She was,^^ says Dibdni
a sort of English D’Eon, amused herself in fencing, shoot-
ing, riding races, cun y mg horses, digging m gardens, and
playing upon the fiddle , was at different times an actress, a
grocer, an alehouse-keeper, a valet de chamhrey a sausage
seller, and a puppet-show woman, one day in affluence, the next
in indigence, now confined in a spongmg-house, presently
released by a subscription of prostitutes

The odd course of her life was thus described ;

In this employment she continued till, through the recom-
mendation of her brother, she was received into the family of
a certain nobleman, in the character of a valet de chamhe^ or
e^entleman In this situation she describes herself as being very

GAEEICK AS HAmaEB

171

tappy, till some friends of liis lordsliip remaiking an impro-
priety in the entertaining one of hei sex in that character, she
was again discharged Her next employment was the making
and selling of sausages for the sappoit of herself and child-
But this failing, she became a waiter at the Kmg^s Head tayern,
Marylebone, commenced afterwards manager of a strolling
company of players, and passed through several trivial adven-
tuies, but most of them distressful ones, till at length, by the
assistance of an uncle, she was enabled to open a public-house,
the situation of which she imprudently fixed in Drury Lane
She was soon forced to shut up her house and dispose of all her
effects. Her next engagement was with the celebrated Mr
Enssel, the puppet-show man, by whom, she tells us, she was
employed, at a guinea per day, to move his figures during his
exhibition at Hickford^s Gieat Hoorn in Brewer Street. She
afterwards kept a public-house at Islington, and was doomed to
fall still lower.

But Samuel Whyte, the Dublin schoolmaster, gives a sketch
of her m the last stage of degradation

About the year 1755, she had written a novel for the press,
which I accompanied my friend, a bookseller, to hear read
She was at that time a widow Her habitation a wretched
thatched hovel, situated on the road to Islington, not very
distant from the New Hiver-head, where, at that time, it was
customary for scavengers to deposit the sweepings of the
streets The night preceding a heavy ram had fallen, which
rendered this extraordinary seat of the Muses nearly inacces-
sible, and we could only approach by wading almost knee-deep
in the mud We did not attempt to pull the latch-strmg,
but knocked at the door, which was opened by a tall,
meagre, ragged figure, with a blue apron, indicating, what
otherwise was doubtful, that it was a female before us To
the right we perceived the mistress of the house, sitting on a
broken chair, under the mantelpiece, by a small fire. At the
authoress^ feet, on the flounce of her dingy petticoat, reclined
a dog, almost a skeleton The tone of her voice was not
harsh, it had something m it humble and disconsolate, a
mingled effort of authority and pleasure. Poor soul ! A

n 2

172 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

magpie was percLed upon tlie top ring of Her oHair, and on Her
lap was placed a pair of mutilated bellows — ^tHe pipe was gone
These were used as a succedaneum for a wnting-desk, on wHicH
lay displayed Her Hopes and treasure — tHe manuscript of Her
novel ^ Her inkstand was a broken tea-cup , Her pen was worn
to a stump ; a rough deal boards with three Hobbling supporters^
was brought for our convenience, on which, without further
ceremony, we contrived to sit down and enter upon business
The work was read, remarks made, alterations suggested, and
agreed to, and thirty guineas demanded for the copy. The
squalid handmaiden, who had been an attentive listener,
stretched forward he') tawny oiech, with an eye of anxious
expectation THe bookseller offered five guineas , our authoress
did not appear Hurt, disappointments Had rendered Her mind
callous , However, some altercation ensued, which terminated
by the bookseller doubling his first proposal, which was
accepted

The History of the stage is full of such strange alternations

CHAPTER 11.

CHUECHILL AND BOSOIAD/^

Gabbick lived in a cloud o£ pamplilets. At every step lie toot
lie was assailed in the press by the scribblers whom he had
offended. Any actor who had a dispute with a manager, or a
brother-actor, or a critic, put his case before the public in
a pamphlet. The performers and their affairs became, there-
fore, of special interest to the public, and there was as
much curiosity m following their proceedmgs off the stage
as upon it. As has been shown, their constant intercourse
with their friends and admirers at coffee-houses, and the
factions which supported them in their quarrels, took away
that sacred privacy which, as Hazlitt later contended, was a
positive element in stage illusion. One result of this was the
production of a famous satire which has become a classic, and
has outlived the occasion which produced it.

Churchill, a depraved clergyman of brilliant powers, who
was eager to make his talents for satire known, seems to have
rather capriciously selected the actors as offering the best
subject, and as likely to bring him into the most publicity.
For two months he attended the theatres regularly, making
his notes and sketches, and in March, 1761, he became famous
by publishing ‘‘The Eosciad.” His pencil, howerer, had been
chiefly employed in drawing blemishes, for his praises seem

174 A 'EWW HISTOUT OS' THE ENGLISH STAGE

general enougli. It cau'sed a prodigious sensation, and no
wonder, for the portraits are the most spirited and finished
that can be conceived A few are selected as bringing the
style of acting then in vogue before the reader

Mossop, attacFd to military plan.

Still kept his eye fixM on his iight-hand man ,

Whilst the mouth measures words with seeming skill,

The right hand labouis, and the left lies still.

With studied impiopriety of speech.

He soars beyond the hackney entices reach.

To epithets allots emphatic state^

Whilst principals, ungraoed, like lackeys wait ,
Oon3unction, pieposition, adverb join
To stamp new vigour on the nervous line ,

In monosyllables his thunders roll.

Be, e/ie, ^t, and we, ye, they, fright the soul
In person taller than the common size.

Behold where Babry draws admiring eyes *

When labouring passions, m his bosom pent.

Convulsive I'age, and struggling heave for vent.
Spectators, with imagined terrors warm.

Anxious expect the bursting of the stoim,

But, all unfit in such a pile to dwell,

His voice comes forth, like Echo from her cell
Who else can speak so very, very fine.

That sense may kindly end with every line ^

Some dozen lines before the ghost is there,

Behold him for the solemn scene prepare ,

See how he frames his eyes, poises each limb.

Puts the whole body into proper trim ;

From whence we leain, with no gieat stretch of art.

Five lines hence comes a ghost, and, ha * a start,

(Quik ) Fix^d in one frame of features, glare of eye.
Passions, like chaos, in confusion lie ,

In vain the wonders of Ins skill are tried
To form distinctions Nature hath denied.

His voice no touch of harmony admits,

Ii regularly deep, and shrill by fits.

OHUEOHILL AISTD ^^THE EOSCIAD

175

The two exti ernes appear like man and wife.

Coupled together for the sake of stiife

His action^s always strongs but sometim.es such;

That candour must declaie he acts too much
Why must impatience fall three paces back ^

Why paces thiee return to the attack ^

Why IS the right leg; too, foibid to stir.

Unless in motion semiciicular ^

Why must the hero with the Nailor vie.

And hull the close-cleucVd fist at nose or eye ?

(Olive ) Fust giggling, plotting chambermaids arrive,
Hoydens and lomps, led on by General Olive.

In spite of outwaid blemishes, she shone.

For humour famed, and humour all her own ;

Easy, as if at home, the stage she trod,

Nor sought the entices praise, nor feared his rod ,
Oiigiual in spiiit and m ease.

She pleased by hiding all attempts to please ;

MackliN; who largely deals m half-foim^d sounds,

Who wantonly transgresses Natuie^s bounds,

Whose actmg^s haid, affected, and constrained.

Whose featiii esj as each otliei they disdain^l^

At vaiiance set, inflexible and coaise,

Ne^er know the workings of united force.

Shute3, who never cared a single pin
Whether he left out nonsense, or put m
Spaeks at his glass sat comfortably down
To separate frown fiom smile, and smile fiom fiown
Smith, the genteel, the airy, and the smait.

Smith was 3ust gone to school to say his pait
Boss (a niisf 01 tune which we often meet)

Was fast asleep at dear Statiea^s feet ,

Statira, with her hero to agree.

Stood on her feet as fast asleep as he.

Lo; Yates ^ Without the least finesse of art
He gets applause — I wish he^d get his part
When hot impatience is in full career.

How vilely Hark ye ^ haik ye ’ giates the ear,
When active fancy from the brain is sent.

And stands on tip-toe for some wished event

176 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE.

I Late those careless blunders, which recall
Suspended sense, and prove it fiction all.

When, to please himself or charm his wife,

He aims at something in politer life,

When, blindly thwarting Nature’s stubborn plan,

He treads the stage by way of gentleman,

The clown, who no one touch of breeding knows,

Looks like Tom Errand dress’d m Clincher’s clothes.

Eond of his dress, fond of his person grown,

Laugh’d at by all, and to himself unknown,

From side to side he struts, he smiles, he prates.

And seems to wonder what’s become of Yates.*

(Mes Yates.) What rival should with her dispute her claim^
But 3ustice may not paitial trophies raise.

Nor sink the actress in the woman’s praise
Still hand in hand her words and actions go.

And the heart feels more than the features show ,

For, through the regions of that beauteous face
We no variety of passions tiace;

Dead to the soft emotions of the heart.

No kindred softness can those eyes impart
The brow, still fix’d in sorrow’s sullen flame.

Void of distinction, marks all parts the same
What’s a fine person, or a beauteous face.

Unless deportment gives them decent grace ^

(Mes Peitchaed — in comedy ) Nay,theie, cries critic, hold,

Pritchaid’s for comedy too fat and old

Who can, with patience, bear the gray coquette,

Or foice a laugh with overgrown Julett ^

Her speech, look, action, humour, all aie just.

But then, her age and figure give disgust
Are foibles, then, and graces of the mind.

In real life, to size or age confined ^

Do spirits flow, and is good-breeding placed
In any set circumference of waist ^

As we grow old, doth affectation cease,

Or gives not age new vigour to caprice ^

* Yates was so stung by this bitter sketch, that he purposed thrashing
the author , but when he met him was intimidated Davies, who was described
mouthmff his words as curs mouth a bone,” was actually dnven from the

OHUECHILL Al^D «THE ROSCIAD

177

These short extracts show the bold touch and masterly
drawing of the artist. Garrick and an obscure actress named
Bride were extravagantly praised , the latter, no doubt, more
from partiality than principle The bitter satirist is often
thus pre]udiced. Nothing has ever appeared since to compare
with The Eosciad It adds life to the figures. Long after,
an Irish satirist essayed to bend the same bow, in the well-
known Familiar Epistles — ^but here was all the malice
without the power. The example, however, was sure to
stimulate smaller fry — the Murphys, Lloyds, Antony Pasquins,
and the rest.

I have mentioned a name, one of those clever adventurers
which the stage has fostered, and whose talent it has, indeed,
almost engendered — the race of men who, like Churohilb fre-
quented the coffee-houses and, living on then wits, contributed
so handsomely to the credit of the English stage. The line of
sterling dramatists were mostly what might be styled adven-
turers, but nearly all weie figures of mark Goldsmith, Colman,
Eeynolds, Sheridan, Holcroft, Foote, Arthur Murphy, Ben
Hoadley — ^what a strange fitful career each offered ^ Murphy
came up to town an Irish student, frequenting the coffee-houses,
not without influential connections, who wished to provide for
him in the colonies. In a little fragment he tells his own
story

In July, 1744, when seventeen, I arrived at my mother^s m
York Buildings My eldest brother James soon came home
from his morning walk, and embraced me with great affection.
In a day or two after, my uncle Jeffery French, then Member
ot Parliament for Milbourn Port, came to see me He talked
with me for some time about indifferent things, and then,
lepeating a hue fromVirgil, asked me if I could construe it?
I told him I had the whole -ZEneid by heart He made me
repeat ten or a dozen lines, and then said If I have fifty
acies of land to plough, and can only get two labouring men
to work at two acres per day, how many days will it take to do

178 A ITEW HISTOEY OF THE EHaLISH STAGE

the whole ^ Sir ^ said I, staring at him Can’t you
answer that question said he^ ^Hhen I would not give a
farthing for all you know Get Cocker s Arithmetic ; you may
buy it for a shilling at any stall , and mind me^ young man,
did you ever hear Mass while you was abioad ^ ^^Sir, I did,
like the rest of the boys ‘‘ Then^ mark my words let me
nevei hear that you go to Mass again, it is a mean, beggaily,
blackguard religion He then rose, stepped into his chariot,
and drove away My mother desired me not to mind his
violent advice , but my bi other, who was educated at West-
minster school, spoke strongly in suppoit of my nucleus
opinion, and he never gave up the point till he succeeded to
his utmost wish

The playhouses at that time had great attractions. Quin,
at Covent Garden, and Ganick, at Diury Lane, diew crowded
houses Theie weie besides. Mis Cibber, Mrs Pntchaid,
Mrs Clive, and that excellent comedian Hairy Woodwaid
London at that time had many advantages, which have been
long since lost. There were a numbei of coffee-houses wheie
the town wits met every evening , particulaily the Bedfoid, in
the Piazza, Covent Garden, and George^s, at Temple Bar
Young as I was, I made my way to those places, and there,
among the famous geniuses of the time, I saw Samuel Foote
and Doctor Bairowby, who was a celebrated wit of that day
Foote, at a table in the doctor ^s company, di*ew out his watch
with gieat parade, and then said, ‘^My watch does not go”
It will go, said Dr Bairowhy, and Foote was abashed by
a lond laugh.

Another well-known person at that time, namely, the
famous Doctoi Hill, author of a daily paper called Ihe Inspect oi^
was a constant visitor at the Bedfoid The doctoi essays
weie weak and frivolous to such a degiee, that, though then
not tivo-and-hventi/j I flattered myself that I could overtop
Dr. Hill. I passed a few weeks in making preparations , and
on Saturday, October 21st, 1752, most boldly and vainly
published the first number of The Oray^s Inn Journal.

His uncle Mr. French died without leaving him anything
This to me was a tennble disappointment, the more so as I

OHUECHILL Am> “THE EOSCIAD

179

sufl&cient to overwlielm me. The late Samuel Foote was, at
that time, my intimate friend and chief adviser he hade me
do as he had done, and go on the stage I approved his
advice, so far as to let it he given out that I intended to
pursue that scheme, in hopes that my relations, who by my
mother^s side were rich and numerous, would take some step
to prevent what I imagined they would think a disgrace to
themselves. I heard nothmg from any of them, they all
seemed indifferent about me, and therefoie I concluded The
Gray^s Inn Journal on the 21st of September, 1754, and in a
short time afterwards appeared at Oovent Garden in the
character of Othello

^^In the course of that season I contrived, with economy, to
clear off a considerable part of my debts Mi. David Garrick
engaged me for the following year at Drury Lane, when,
including salary, profits of the farce called The Apprentice/^
and a generous support of my friends on my benefit-night, I
cleared within a trifle of 800L I had now, after paying off all
my debts, about 400Z. in my pocket , and with that sum I
determined to quit the dramatic hue, this was in the summer
of 1756

^^In the beginning of 1757, I offered to enter myself a
student of the Middle Temple, but the Benchers of that
Society thought fit to object to me, assigning as their reason
that I had appeared in the profession of an actor This
kindled in my breast a degree of indignation, and I was fiee
enough to speak my mind on the occasion I was obliged,
however, to sit down under the affront

As Mr Murphy grew old he hung about the remains of
the old society in which he had once flourished. He was in
comfortable circumstances, enjoying a pension and a commis-
sionership Mi. Eogers used to tell a characteristic story of

180 A MIW HISTOEY OE THE EHQLISH STAGE.

Ilis closing days. The old^man would he asked: ^^Well, sir^
you knew Mr. Garrick , now of what kind was his acting ^
With great deliberation ^^Tll tell you, sir, no man knew
him so welP^ There was a general expectancy, the

stage he was a mean pitiful hound, but on the stage — oh,
my great God * His description did not go beyond this,
and never varied. When Mrs. Piozzi sold off the Streatham
portraits, his was the only one she kept. He had a house
on Hammersmith Mall, and a few days before his death,
and when scarcely himself, he was surprised leavmg the
house to go down to ‘^the Percy coffee-house.^^ This was
characteristic.

Nor can a most remarkable character, that also figured at
the taverns, be passed over, namely. Dr. Hill, the quack doctor,
actor, bookmaker, herbalist, play-writer, novelist, and con-
troversialist. The works of this man would fill a library, and
a detailed account of his career would be most entertaining
He was perpetually in hot water as it is called, insulting
actors from the boxes and wi angling with scientific men
His controversies were conducted m — quartos ^ Garrick, how-
ever, extinguished him in what is certainly one of the happiest
epigrams recorded (a piece of the doctor^s had failed), declaring
that

For physic and farces
His equal there scarce is .

His farces are physic.

His physic a farce is.

The amazing part of the whole is that his vast works, set
out in folios and richly illustrated, have an air of learning and
research, and are really not unentertainmg. How he obtained
booksellers to undertake such costly ventures is also a marvel.
He called himself, and was called by others, Sir John Hill/^

CHURCHILL AND «THE BOSOIAD

181

tills singular being would form one of the most extraordinary
stories m illustration of an adventurer’s course that could be
conceived

At the close of the first two seasons at Drury Lane^ under
the new managers, we find that their profits amounted to a
sum of 15,558Z I 65 . or at the rate of nearly 8000Z a
year each.* The salaries, however, and expenses were
comparatively low.

* Mr Bunn fornislies tliese figures from tlie old books of the theatre
before bim.

CHAPTER III.

SCENES BEHIND THE SCENES

When Ganick was in Dablm, a young actor, tall and with a
fine melodious voice, had made a deep impression on the city.
This was Spranger Barry/^ the son of a silversmith. He
seems to have been more interesting than the greater actor
Garrick had aided him in procuring a London engagement,
and he was soon induced, by flatteries and partisanship, to set
up as a rival Then followed the well-known Romeo and
Juliet ’’ contest, which was not unacceptable to both houses in
bringing profit He derived much assistance fiom the lady
who always acted with him, Mrs Dancer, who later became
Mrs Barry, and later Mrs Crawford *

There is something interesting in Barry^s career, his capti-
vating talents contrasting with his careless combative Irish
temper Few enjoyed such a reputation, but within a few
years after his death he was scarcely known or recollected
The gift of an enchanting voice is, and ever will be, an irre-
sistible charm on the stage, and an actor able to modulate his
voice and his cadences has an extraordinary advantage. He

This lasb improvident marriage was to a man much younger than herself,
who wasted all her hard earnings Grown old, ** with the appearance of an old
man,’^ her voice harsh and broken, she was sent for almost in her decay to
ooDose Mrs Siddons, but failed She lived until 1801.

SCENES BEHIND THE SCENES

183

miglit liave flonrished, but for insaue building of a tbeatie ^bick
brought rum, then decay from gout, a stiugglo to vanquisb.
infirmity maintained on the very stage, but wbicli giadually
overcame him It is recorded that he and his attractive wife
received, in 1774, a salary of 1700Z for a season After a few
years of success he became gradually a victim to gout, which
seized on him and ended his playing In addition to which,
he and his wife were to give endless trouble and vexation to
Garrick and those who engaged them, owing to their aiis and
affectations In a little MS note-book, Oioss, the prompter — a
worthy and excellent officer, and long associated with Drury
Lane — has left a short but minute lecord of his troubles with
the clever but fantastic pan. This affair occurred in 1769.

In the September wrote (the little memorandum runs) to
the Bariys to know whether they could act a week later They
answeied, saying That the soonest they could appear would
be the latter end of next week^^ The ^^Fair Penitent was
advertised for Wednesday, the 11th A reheaisal was called
on Thursday, the lOfch About nine o^ clock in the morning
Mr Bairy sent for me, and told me lie was so ill it w^as im-
possible for him to play for some time, and that he would give
up his salary, etc On the 12th, a reheaisal of ^^As Ton Like
It,^^ called at Mrs Barry^s desire At ten she sent word to have
ifc put off for half an hour. The performers stayed for her till
half-past eleven , but she not coming, they went away On
the 14th she was asked if she would play Lady Townley with
Mr Eeddish. She said, She had no clothes for it ” I asked if
she had any objection to Mrs Abmgton^s playing the part She
said No ” They had, however, walked in The Pageant But
on Satuiday, 21st, Mrs Barry sent word she was so ill she could
not come out for ^^The Pageant, if she did she could not play
the Mourning Bride on Monday. I waited on her, by the
managei^s Older, and told her they would excuse her playing
on Monday if she would come out and do her part in The
Pageant As it was a thing of great consequence to them,
they desired and expected, as she had begun it, she would con-

184 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

tinue it as long as she was able Her answer was^ that as they
seemed to think it of such consequence, she would come out
and do it to-night and Monday, but after that desired to be
excused from it On Monday, Mr Barry sent a note that
Mrs Barry was ill in her bed and could nob come out till she
was better. When a rehearsal began, a note arrived that she
could not come I also on Fiiday delivered a message to
Mrs Barry from Mr Gairick, that ^^He would never ask her
to play in anything in which he was particularly interested
Her answer was, “ That he was in his rage , but that, if his
mind should alter, she was ready and willing to do anything he
would desire her to do

Illness and suffering was no doubt accountable for much
of this In his later stages he could with difficulty drag him-
self through his part Once, when in this state, he said in
'^Lear that he was old and infirm, the sentiment was greeted
with a scoffing laugh Wrote one who witnessed his last
performance

On his last appearance, in 1776, he was so infirm that
before the curtain rose it was thought he could not suppoit
himself through the play, but in spite of decay he played
Jaffier with such a glow of love and tenderness, and such a
heioic passion, as thrilled the theatre, and spread even to the
actors on the stage with him, though he was almost insensible
when, after the fall of the curtain, he was led back to the green-
room. There was, we are told, in Barry’s whole person such a
noble air of command, such elegance in his action, such re-
gularity and expressiveness in his features, in his voice such
resources of melody, strength, and tenderness, that the greatest
Parliamentary orators used to study his acting for the charm
of his stately grace and the secret of its pathos

His wife, who in her day was a grand actress, is peihaps
better known from being arbitrarily associated with one of the
prettiest stories extant — a gem in story telling, for it is told by

Charles Lamb, in ‘'^Barbara S Of this he pleasantly

makes Mrs Crawford the heroine.

SCENES BEHIND THE SCENES.

185

At til© period I commenced witli^ her slender earnings were
the sole support of the family^ including two younger sisters.

I must t]^ow a veil over some mortifying circumstances.
Enough to say, that her Saturday’s pittance was the only
chance of a Sunday's (generally their only) meal of meat.
One thing I will only mention, that m some child's part, where
in her theatrical character she was to sup off a roast fowl (oh
]oy to Barbara some comic actor, who was for the night
caterer for this dainty — ^in the misguided humour of his part,
threw over the dish such a quantity of salt (oh, grief and pam
of heart to Barbara *), that when he crammed a portion of it
into her mouth she was obliged sputteringly to reject it; and
what with shame of her ill-acted part and pam of real appe-
tite at missing such a dainty, her little heart sobbed almost
to breaking, till a flood of tears, which the well-fed spectators
were totally unable to comprehend, mercifully relieved her
This was the little starved, meritorious maid, who stood before
old Ravenscroft, the treasurer, for her Saturday's payment
Ravenscroft was a man, I have heard many old theatrical
people besides herself say, of all men least calculated for a
treasurer He had no head for accounts, paid away at random,
kept scarce any books, and summing up at the week's end, if
he found himself a pound or so deficient, blest himself that it
was no worse Now Barbaia's weekly stipend was a bare half
guinea. By mistake he popped into her hand a whole one
Barbara tripped away. She was entirely unconscious at first
of the mistake, God knows, Ravenscroft would never have
discovered it But when she had got down to the first of those
uncouth landing-places, she became sensible of an unusual
weight of metal pressing her little hand. Now mark the
dilemma. Her first impulse was to go back to the old
tieasurer and explain to him his blunder. He was already so
confused with age, besides a natural want of punctuality, that
she would have had some difficulty in making him understand
it. She saw that in an instant And then it was such a bit
of money ^ and then the image of a larger allowance of
butcher's meat on their table next day came across her, till
her little eyes glistened and her mouth moistened But then
Mr. Ravenscroft had always been so good-natured, had stood
her friend behind the scenes, and even recommended her pro-

ven II.

o

186 A NEW HISTOBY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

motion to some o£ her little parts But again the old man was
reputed to be worth a woild o£ money. He was supposed to
have 50Z a year clear o£ the theatre. And then came staring
upon her the figures of her little stockmgless and shoeless
sisters In these thoughts she reached the second landing-
place — the second, I mean from the top — ^for there was still
another left to traverse Now virtue support Barbara ^ And
that never-failing friend did step in — ^for at that moment a
strength not her own, I have heard her say, was revealed to-
her — a reason above reasoning — and without her own agency,
as it seemed (for she never felt her feet to move), she found
herself transported back to the individual desk she had ]ust
quitted, and her hand in the old hand of Eavensoroft, who in
silence took back the refunded treasure, and who had been
sitting (good man) insensible to the lapse of minutes, which to
her were anxious ages , and from that moment a deep peace
fell upon her heart, and she knew the quality of honesty A
year or two^s unrepinmg application to her profession
brightened up the feet and the prospects of her little sisteis,
set the whole family upon their legs again, and released her
from the difl&culty of discussing moral dogmas upon a land-
ing-place I have heard her say, that it was a surprise, not
much short of mortification to her, to see the coolness with
which the old man pocketed the difference, which had caused
her such mortal throes. This anecdote of herself I had in the
year 1800, from the mouth of the late Mrs Crawford, then
sixty-seven years of age

Lamb heard this story from Miss Kelly, and^'acknowledged
to his friends that he intended her to be the heroine. So late
as the year 1775, she herself related to Mr Charles Kent, in a
pleasant gossip, the facts of the case Peake was the ti easurer,
and the theatre Drury Lane

One of the old-established customs that has passed away
within living memory was that of half-price to the theaties.'^
There can he no doubt that this was an equitable practice in the
large theatres and under the patent limitations, for as the choice
of entertainment was thus restrained, and there were but two or

SCENES BEHIND THE SCENES

187

three houses, it was deemed fair that the audience should he
allowed to select what portion of the entertainment it should
attend. The performance, too, began very early, and was so
ai ranged as to be, as it were, in two divisions, each of which
might suit a different class of spectators. The farce m those days
was not^the sketchy imperfect thing it is now, but'a feature of the
night, and worth the reduced rather than half price that was
paid for it. Now the theatres, if there be anything popular,
fill up at the beginning of the uight, the performance begins
late, and only an hour before the time of the old half-price.

It was in the year 1763 that an attempt was made by both
houses to suspend half-price. During new pieces, on benefit-
night, and the production of new plays, full price was always
exacted. Garrick had had a quarrel with an Irish gentleman
about town, who had given him much annoyance during his
performances, and whom he had ridiculed in an ephemeral
poem This comparatively obscure person had the mis-
fortune to offend Churchill, and was by him introduced to
posterity in some of the most scathing lines ever wiitten—
excellent pendant indeed to Pope’s Atticus ’’

With that low cunning, which in fools supplies.

And amply too, the place of being wise,

Which Nature, kind, indulgent parent, gave
To qualify the blockhead for a knave.

With that smooth falsehood, whose appearance charms,
And Eeason of each wholesome doubt disarms.

Which to the lowest depths of guile descends,

By vilest means pursues the vilest ends ,

Wears Friendship's mask for purposes of spite.

Pawns in the day, and butchers in the night ;

With that malignant envy which turns pale,

And sickens, even if a fi lend prevail,

Which merit and success pursues with hate,

And damns the worth it cannot imitate;

0 2

188 A NEW HISTOBY OF THE ENG-LISH STAGE

With the cold caution o£ a coward^s spleen.

Which fears not guilt, hut always seeks a screen ;

With that dull, rooted, callous impudence,

Which, dead to shame and every nicer sense,

Ne^er blush’d, unless, in spreading Vice’s snares.

She blunder’d on some virtue unawares ,

A motley figure of the Fribble tribe,

Which heart can scarce conceive, or pen describe.

Came simpering on — ^to ascertain whose sex
Twelve sage impannell’d matrons would perplex.

Nor male, nor female ; neither, and yet both ;

Of neuter gender, though of Irish growth.

Notwithstanding this public gibbeting,” we find him
conspicuous in creating a disturbance This gentleman became
the ringleader in his opposition to the new plan, and was
heartily supported, and encouraged, by another Irish gentle-
man, one destined later to become a man of great mark This
was no less a personage than Mr. Francis, now accepted
as the ar^thor of Junius’^ Among his papers was found a
printed handbill, dated January 25fch, 1763, addressed to the
frequenters of the theatres It exhorts the public to a stout
resistance of the innovation,” and concludes that one way
only IS left to us to obtain redress, which is to assemble at the
playhouses and demand, with decency and temper, an explana-
tion on this grievance, which I am certain cannot be supported,
and owes its establishment to an opinion that every imposition,
not openly opposed, acquires the sanction of prescription”
This manifesto is signed An Enemy to Imposition.”

It seems incredible what wanton destruction of property
has marked the course of theatrical riots ; but perhaps nothing
so destructive is recorded as the wrecking of two theatres on
so frivolous a pretext The night chosen was one for the
benefit of Mr Victor, who had altered The Two Gentlemen of
Verona,” and it was now to be played for his benefit.

SCENES BEHIND THE SCENES

189

Mr Fitzpatrick karangued tke spectators from tke boxes,
and set forth, in very warm and opprobrious language, the im-
positions of the managers, and, with much vehemence, pleaded
the right of the audience to fix the price of their bill of fare*
When Mr. Garrick came forward to address the house, he was
leceived with noise and uproar, and treated with the utmost
contempt by the orator and his friends He was not permitted
to show the progressive accumulation of theatrical expenses,
the nightly charge of which from the year 1702 to 1760 had
been raised from 34Z to above 90Z. It had been an invariable
custom with Booth, Wilks, and Cibber to demand full prices
on the acting of a new play, which had cost them additional
expense in decoration I am informed, too, that the present
managers of Drury Lane and Covent Garden, from the pro-
digious increase of expenditure on various occasions, are
obliged to charge their actors for a benefit play lOOZ.

But this tribune of the people, Mr Fitzpatrick, would hear
no apology they must not be allowed a night^s time — no, not
an hour — to deliberate The consequence of not instantly
giving up the privileges of authors to the superior claims of
dumb show was the tearing up the benches, breaking the
lustres and girandoles, and committing every act of violence
to which they weie prompted by their ungovernable rage and
malice The play was given up and the money returned

The next night a new tragedy, called Elvira,^^ written by
Mr Mallet, was acted. The rioters, headed by their spokesman,
enforced their former demand in the same violent and laconic
manner When Mr Garrick appeared, they cried out with one
voice Will you, or will you not, give admittance for half-price
after the third act of a play, except during the first winter a
pantomime is performed ^ The manager, who had learnt the
lesson of obedience by the losses which he had sustained the
preceding evening, replied in the affirmative But, however,
peace was not to be restored till some of the players had made
an amende honorable for daiing to espouse the cause of their
master. Mr Moody was called upon to apologise for the
offence he had given, in stopping a madman^s hand who was
going to set fire to the playhouse He, imagining that he
should bring the audience into good humour by a laughable
absurdity, in the tone and language of a low-bred Irishman, said

190 A NEW HISTOBT OP THE ENGLISH STAGE.

he was very sorry that he had displeased them by saving their
lives m putting out the fire The speech was so ill taken that
it rather inflamed than cooled their lage , and they loudly and
vehemently insisted that he should go down on his knees and
ask their pardon Moody was so far from complying with this
positive command^ that he had the courage absolutely to

refuse, saying I will not, by G When he came off

the stage, Mr. Garrick was so pleased with his behaviour that he
received him with open arms, and assured him that whilst he
was master of a guinea he should be paid his income How-
ever, Garrick promised he should not appear on the stage
again dui mg the time he was under their displeasure, Mr.
Moody^s situation was by no means eligible , he was reduced
to the necessity of either taking leave of the capital, and
]oining the itinerant actors in the countiy, or of depending
upon the geneiosity of the manager. He was therefore
determined, after weighing all consequences, to seek rediess
from the original plotter of all the mischief, Mr, Pitzpatiick
himself. He waited upon him at his chambers in the Temple
That gentleman seemed somewhat surprised when Moody
addressed him in these words , I suppose, sir, you know me,^^
Pitzpatiick ^Wery well, sir, and how came I by the honour
of this visit ? After some bold speeches from Moody, the
other was cowed. Mr Fitzpatrick, perceiving that Moody was
determined to exact satisfaction, asked him what leparation he
wished to have. Moody said, he expected that he would sign
his name to a paper, and repair the injury by acknowledging
that he had acted towards him in a most unjust and impioper
manner, at the same time that he would request his friends
not to insist on the penance prescribed to Mr. Moody, but to
receive him to favour on his making any reasonable excuse.
Mr Fitzpatrick now assumed the man. He declared that no
power on earth should prevail on him to sign such a writing
Mr. Moody then renewed his positive resolution to right himself.
After some further alter cation, Mr Pitzpatiick proposed to
serve Mr Moody m another way, and perhaps moi'e effectually
than the signing of any instrument whatsoever. know
Mr Moody,^^ said Mr Fitzpatrick, ^^goes to the Jamaica
Coffee-house; I will meet him there to-morrow morning, and

SCEl^ES BEHIHD THE SCENES

191

fix upon a proper metliod to accommodate matters to Ins entire
satisfaction"' Mr Fitzpatrick did not meet Mr Moody How-
ever, lie sent a gentleman to liim with whom he was well
acquainted, and one very willing and able to bring about a
reconciliation between the audience and the acton Mr Fitz-
patrick now began to view his conduct with impartial eyes,
and to make some amends for his past outrageous conduct to
the actor and manager He wrote a letter to Mr Garrick in a
strain very condescending, and to a proud man sufficiently
humiliating The chief purpose of his epistle was to acquaint
him that, whenever he thought proper to introduce Mr Moody
to the audience, he and all his friends would attend, and
contribute to his being reinstated in the favour of the public.

Though Mr. Fitzpatrick's plan of reformation, as he called
it, was piincipally levelled at Mr Garnck, yet, as he was now
engaged in a publick cause, he thought it would appear very
paitial if he did not oblige Mr Beard, the manager of
Oovent Garden, to submit to the same regulations he had
imposed on Mr. Garrick. To this end Fitzpatrick pio-
ceeded, with his associates, the night following, from the
conquest of Drury Lane to undertake that of Oovent Garden.
He there delivered an harangue similar to his ^oration at
Drury Lane, and insisted on the manager's compliance Mr.
Beard answered the speech of the orator with great firmness,
and with a strong appearance of reason , he more particularly
observed, that operas had never been exhibited at such small
prices anywhere as at his theatre ,• that the nightly expenses
were prodigiously increased since the days of former managers ^
and that the public ought not to grudge the full charge when
no expense in actors, deaths, scenes, music, and every decora-
tion of the stage had been spared for their entertainment.
All this, and much more, was urged in vain by the manager.
But they insisted peremptorily on a positive answer to their
demand. Would he comply with their regulation of prices,
or not ? This being answered in the negative, they then
demolished the playhouse in such a manner that the carpenters
could not repair the damages sustained in the scenery and
other parts of the theatre in less than four or five days
Mr. Beard being determmed to maintain and defend his

192 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.

property by legal metbods, took care to fix upon some of tbe
rioters, and, witb tbe kelp of a cbief justice^s warrant, brought
two or three of them before Lord Mansfield Mr Fitzpatrick,
alarmed at the manager's resolution, thought proper to attend
the judge, where the usual paleness of his cheek was rendered
perfectly of a livid colour by the dreadful rebuke of Lord
Mansfield, who told him solemnly, that if a life was lost in
this tumultuous contest, he would be answerable for it with
his own

As soon as the playhouse was refitted they attended as
before, but contented themselves with laughing, hissing, and
such like innocent practices, to interrupt the play, till the
manager should comply with their arbitrary decrees. Mr,
Beard, finding it impossible to keep open the doors of the
theatre to any purpose without submitting to these dictators,
at last complied, and peace was restored. The gang, thus
victorious, now determined to force the other house to yield *

In London,” wrote the same person to a Dublin paper, in
the year 1722, a not was committed at the theatre inLincoln^s
Inn Fields, by a set of profligate young men of quality, which
shut up that playhouse for eight or nine days But the legis-
lature (by the King^s direction) entered so warmly into the affair,
that the rioters thought proper to make the suffering manager
ample satisfaction , and His Majesty ordered a guard to attend
that theatre from this accident, which Mr. Eich enjoys to this
day. At the last not in Drury Lane Theatre in 1743, His
Majesty was pleased to give the same direction, and the Lord
Chief Justice Lee declared from the bench, it was his opinion
that a continual hissing was a manifest breach of the peace, as
xt was the beginning of a not

An engraving of tins scene of not was issued, which is curious as showing
what the arrangement of the intenor of a playhouse was at this time The
mode of illuminating the stage is particularly shown, the three suspended
chandeliers hung over the stage, with a single one in the middle. Each seems
to contain about a dozen candles

SCENES BEHIND THE SCENES

193

In tlie outbreak on February 24tb, tbe doorkeepers of tbe
Covent Garden theatre were driven from tbeir posts^ the pit
seats torn up, and tbe performances put an end to by the
tumult.

A grand effort, however, in the year 1755, led to some very
serious commotions, which it required all the arts of this
accomplished manager to allay This was the well-known not
in connection with The Chinese FestivaV^ a grand pantomime
enteitainment of dancing, composed by Mr. Noverre, in which
above a hundred persons were employed.

Many worthless disappointed writers^ that are unavoidably
angry with the manager of a theatre, are always ready to lay
hold of any opportunity to in]ure him ; and a very popular one
offered, viz. that of engaging and bringing over a troop of
Frenchmen to the King^s Theatre, in London, just as England
had declared war with France Many paragraphs in the news-
papers were artfully and wickedly drawn up to the following
effect, viz ^ That the managers had sent over, not only for
French dancers, but French dresses also, and even for French
carpenters and manufacturers.^ The managers had been
complained of for several seasons that they had presumed upon
their success with the public, and would not be at any expense
for good dancers and other elegant decorations to their plays
To remove this complaint they applied to Mr Denoyer, senior, to
recommend some person of genius, and he engaged Mr Noverre,
a Swiss by birth His troop was composed of Italians, Swiss,
Germans, and Frenchmen, and all engaged by Noverre long
before the declaration of war with France , but as the time
employed to gather this company, their voyage hither, the
making above a hundred new dresses (which were all made in
London), and the many practices required for so difficult an
exhibition, took more than eighteen months, within that space

194 A NEW HISTOBY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

of time war was declared witli France. It was performed snc
niglits , but tliougb commanded by tbe late King^ wbo honoured
it with his presence, could not escape ill-treatment On the
second, thud, fourth, and fifth nights the i inters were con-
stantly opposed by several young men of fashion, and even
blows exchanged, but on the sixth night they exerted the
utmost violence, and, after doing all the mischief in their
power to the theatre, they inflamed the mob without doors to
join them to attack Mr GarricFs house in Southampton Street,
which was saved with some dijBdculty. And thus the managers,
for their bold attempt to entertain the public magnificently,
were compelled to submit to the loss of more than 4000Z ^

Some nights after, says Tate Wilkinson, Mr Q-arrick
advertised his performance in Archer, when, on his entrance,
something murmured like ^ Pardon, pardon ^ ^ on which he
advanced with great respect and as great firmness^ explaining
how ill he had been treated by the wanton and malignant
conduct of wicked individuals, both in his property, fame, and
character He acknowledged all favours received , but unless
he was that night permitted to perfoim his duty to the best of
his abilities, he was above want, superior to insult, and would
never, neve) appear on the stage again While he was speak-
ing all tumult ceased, it was indeed a calm after a storm
They seemed so struck with the truths which he asserted and
addiessed to them, the propriety of his conduct, and the injury
from illiberality and wicked wantonness he had actually sus-
tained, that from the idea of censuring Mr, Gai’rick unmeritedly,
they felt the reproach deservedly on themselves, and, like
true-hearted Britons, hurst into such an universal according
applause as for several minutes shook the fabric of Old Drury,
Harmony was settled before and behind the curtain/^

Here is the bill of the peiformance, interesting as a
specimen of the mode in which such things were drawn up.

SCEOTS BEHIND THE SOEHES

195

Theatke Eoyal IK Dbuey Lake.

This present Wednesday^ being the 12 th of November^ will be
presented a Comedy, called

THE INCONSTANT

Captain Duret^te by Mr Woodward,

TouDg Mirabel by Mr Palmer,

Old Mirabel by Mr, Yates,

Dagaid by Mr Blares,

Petit by Mr Usher,

Oriana by Mrs Dayies,

Lamorce by Mrs Bekket,

Bissarre by Mrs. Clive

To which will be added a new grand Enteitainment of Dancing,

called

THE CHINESE FESTIVAL,

Composed by Mr. Noyeree
The characters by

Mons Delaistre, Sig Baletti, Mr Lauchery,

Mr Novel re, j an , Mr Dennison, Mons St Leger, Mr Shaw-
ford, Mr Mathews, Mons Pochee, Mons L^Clert, Mr HarrisoD,
Mr Gianier, Mr Hast, Mons Sarny, Mr Walker,

Mrs Verkok, Miss Noyerre,

Mr, Morns, Mr. Kooker, Mr Sturt, Mr Atkins, Mr Ackman,
Mr Walker, Siga Pietro, Mis Addison, Mrs Noverre, Mrs
Gibbons, Mad Charon, Mad Eousselet, Mrs Preston, Mad.
Eouend, Mis Philips, Mrs Lawson,

The Little Pietro, Miss Yotjkg,

Master Simson, Master Pope, Master Blagden, Master Hust,
Master Spilsbury, Miss Bride, Miss Poplmg, Miss Simson,
Miss Heath, Mr Scrase, Mr Lewis, Mr Jefferson, Mr Burton,
Mr Marr, Mr Vaughan, Mr. Chamness, Mr Bullbrick, Mr
Clough, Mr Allen, Mr. Gray, Mrs Bradshaw, Mis Hippisley,
Mrs Mathews, Mrs Simson, and Miss Mills
With new music, scenes, machines, habits, and other decorations
Boxes, 5s Pit, 35 First Gallery, 25 Upper Gallery, I5
Places for the boxes to be had of Mr Varney at the stage-
door of the theatie.

No 'persons can possibly be admitted behind the scenes 0 ? into
the O'ichestm. Nothing nndei the full pnces will be taken
duiing the whole performance.

196 A KEW EISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

The two houses^ Drury Lane and Covent Garden, heing
now in full rivalry, the manager of the latter house naust
have had but a poor chance in the combat. He was a strange
being, but was well served by his deputy and stage-manager,
J ames Quin. This rough, jovial man must have found it a diflSicult
task to administer affairs behind the scenes of Covent Garden.

His figure, indeed, stands out from the theatrical back-
ground like a well-painted full-length portrait by his friend
Hogarth. There are some others of these full, round, and
attractive portraits, such as Foote and Garrick, on which the
eye rests at once There are a number of stock anecdotes
familiar enough of Quin , but there are others not nearly so
well known.

Bath, where he retired to end his days, always suggests his
memory, and, indeed, has a pleasant theatrical fragrance '*Quin,’'
says a pleasant actor, who lived a good deal there, ^‘hke Foote,
was distinguished for a certain contempt for a portion of the
society he courted, namely, the more noble but less intelligent
Dining one day at a party in Bath, he uttered something
which caused a general murmur of delight A nobleman pre-
sent, who was not illustrious for the brilliancy of his ideas,
exclaimed ^What a pity ^tis, Qum, my boy, that a clever
fellow like you should be a player ^ ^ Quin fixed and flashed
his eye upon the person, with this reply ^ What would your
lordship have me be ^ — a lord ^ ^

The following is a masterly retort Some person whom he
had offended met him one day in the street, and stopped him
Mr. Quin,^^ said he, ** I — — I understand, sir, you have been
taking away my name ^ What have I said, sir ^ You
— you — ^you called me a scoundrel, sir ! Keep your name,'^
replied he, and walked on.

From Bath were to come stories of the jovial actor, his wit
and goiirmandisej which offer a curious view of his character.

SCEMS BEHIND THE SCENES

197

He was often invited to Hampton by G-arnck, wbo wrote
many pleasant rhymes on his friend, and finally composed his
epitaph.

That tongue which set the table in a roar,

And charmM the public ear, is heard no more .

Closed are those eyes, the harbinger of wit,

Which spake before the tongue what Shakspeare writ.

Cold is that hand which, living, was stretchM forth

At Friendship's call to succour modest worth

Here lies James Quin.

It is reported that the day before he died " he drank a bottle
of claret.^^ He died on January 21st, 1766, and left a respectable
sum behind After legacies of lOOZ and 50Z, to wine merchants
and landladies, including a sum of 50Z to Gainsborough, he
bequeathed the residue to a ^^Mr. Nobbes, oilman, in the
Strand,^' and to Mr Lowth, apparently a tavern-keeper.
Long before, however, he had retired he was active in the
direction of Oovent Garden.

At Mr Quints jpeht souped s (says one who was often a
guest there), which weie honoured with the presence of some
of the brightest geniuses of the age, nothing escaped that
could offend a female ear. There the conversation was delicate,
lively, and interspersed with everything that could improve
the understanding as well as dehght the heart.

Miss Bellamy was a favourite of his, and in her recollections
— making due allowance for the exaggerations of a vain and
beautiful creature — ^there are some curious and useful incidents
of life behind the scenes ” in those days

I was soon announced to bring up the rear of our theatrical
forces in the character of Belvidera When, to my great
surprise, instead of the crowded house I had flattered myself
with playing to, it was far from full. My own reception,
indeed, was as warm as it had ever been , but still I was dis-

198 A ISTEW* HISTORY OF THE ENOLLSH STAG-E

satisfied At the conclusion of the piece^ however, Mr. Town,
whom I have alieady taken notice of, hearing another piece
given out for the following evening, cried out The same ^
the same The audience joined, as usual, in the cry; and
by this eventual stroke, the same play, Venice Preserved,
was performed for four successive nights to crowded houses.

On the death of Thomson, a play was got up, under the
auspices of his friends Lord Lyttleton and Quin, with a
prologue, to secure a provision for his sisters.

As soon as the piece was perfect, an evening rehearsal was
called, upon a night when there happened to be no per-
formance Mr Quints pronunciation was of the old school
In this Mr Ganick had made an alteration The one pro-
nounced the letter a open , the other sounded it like an e,
which occasioned the following laughable mistake. In the
piece, when the Roman ladies came in procession to solicit
Ooriolanus to retuim to Rome, they are attended by the
tribunes And the centurions of theVolscian armyboaimg
fasces y their ensigns of authoiity, they are ordered by the hero
(the part of which was played by Mr. Quin) to lower them as
a token of respect But the men who personated the
centurions, imagining, through Mr. Quints mode of pro-
nunciation, that he said their faces, instead of their fasces, all
bowed their heads together

The picture of the Oovent Garden green-room at this
time offers scenes of disorder. Miss Bellamy was twice
earned from the stage by daring profligates, on the first
occasion by Lord Byron, on the second by Mr Metham.
There was the rivalry of favourite actresses, such as the
good-natured but coarse WoflSlngton, who is a conspicuous
figure, a " dashmg,^^ good, humane, but violent creature On
the night of Mr Quin's benefit a gx'eat crowd attended, and
among other visitors was the eccentric Duchess of Queensberry,
who desired to visit the green-room This she did ; but on
ushermg in this lady of quality the only sight which presented

SOENES BEHIISTD THE SCENES

199

itself to her view was Mrs. Woffington with a pot of porter in
her hand, crying out ^ Confusion to all order ^ The lowest
canaille of the theatre surrounded a table covered with mutton-
pies, and seemed, by their manner and appearance, to realise
the sentiment just toasted by the beautiful heroine Her
grace seemed petrified with astonishment at a spectacle she so
little expected On recovering herself she exclaimed ^ Is all
hell broke loose ^ ^ and hurried away to her chair ” Another
strange adventure presently followed

Mr Quin, thinking that the force of the company lay
in comedy, introduced me into every piece which contained a
character suited to my figure and age As he was excellent
in the Double Dealer, and Mrs. Woffington was well received
in Lady Touchwood, I had an opportunity of appearing in
Lady Froth, a character which would afford ample room for
the exeition of my fancy and humour. Whether the applause
I had received, or the brilliancy of my dress, or some other
cause, occasioned it I know not, but I was elevated by an
uncommon flow of spirits on the first night of its performance
Thus cheerful, as I sat m the green-room, who should enter it
but Mr Montgomery, since Sir George Metham, whom I have
alieady mentioned as an admirer of mine The unexpected
sight of that gentleman greatly surprised me, and without
considering how preposterous such a step might appear to the
performers, I found myself involuntarily led by some impulse,
to which I had till now been a stranger, to get up to receive
him as he approached me. Such a mark of distinction could
not pass unnoticed by him, and he seemed to receive it
with inexpressible transport, Nor did it pass unobserved by
Mrs Woffington. The tender respect he showed me seemed
to hurt her pride. As to the other female performers piesent,
they were all, except Mrs, Ward, persons of more respectable
characters They loved their husbands, minded their busi-
ness, and found too much employment in their own families to
trouble themselves with the concerns of others. As the atten-
tion of a person whose dress, deportment, and appearance
proclaimed him a man of fashion, seemed to excite the jealousy

200 A liTEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE,

of Mrs. Woffington, wlio expected to have the tribute of admi-
ration from everyone first paid to her, I put an end, as soon as
possible, to our tete-a-tete But, at the conclusion of the play,
Mr, Metham accosted me again, and desired permission to
wait on me the next morning. This, I told him, I could not
grant , he then begged to be allowed to write to me, which I
did not refuse. Upon this we parted.

But this jealousy soon developed into a bitter hostility, and
the two ladies had an open quarrel, which excited the amuse-
ment of the town and set the pens of the wits at work. The
story of their jealousies is amusing

Mr. Eich (Miss Bellamy tells us) had been advised to
revive Lee's tragedy of ^^Alexandei," as the character of that
hero would suit the powers and show the person of Barry to
singular advantage The parts of the rival queens he judged
would be likewise well filled by Mrs Woffington and myself.
The animosity this lady had long borne me had not experienced
any decrease, on the contrary, my late additional finery in
my jewels, etc had augmented it to something very near
hatred. I had during the summer given Madame Mont6te,
wife of the hairdresser of the time, who was going to Pans,
a commission to bring me from thence two tragedy dresses, the
most elegant she could purchase. I have already observed
that the proprietor allowed me a certain sum to find my own
habiliments. My chargee d^affa%^ es opened her credentials at
Madame Bonfoy’s, piincipal marchand du mode in that
metropolis. I had requested this lady to consult Brilliant,
who would consult Du Menil. She was likewise to take the
joint opinion of all the people of taste there upon an affair of
such momentous consequence. My royal robes, in which I
had represented the Empress Eulvia, in Doctor Francis's
Constantine," to the great loss of the public, had not been
seen by them. They were showy and proper for the character
But in these rolee da cour taste and elegance were never so
happily blended, particularly in one of them, the ground of
which was a deep yellow. Mr Eich had purchased a suit
of her royal highness's (the Princess Dowager of Wales), for

SCEITES BEHIND THE SCENES.

201

Mrs WofEngton to appear in. Eoxana It was not in the
least soiled^ and looked very beautiful by daylight^ but^ being
a straw colour, it seemed to be a dirty wliite by candlelight —
especially when my splendid yellow was by it To this yellow
diess I* had added a purple lohe,^ and a mixture so happy
made it appear, if possible, to greater advantage Thus
accoutred in all my magnificence, I made my entree into
the green-room as the Persian Princess, But how shall I
describe the feelings of my inveterate rival ^ As soon as she
saw me, almost bursting with rage, she drew herself up, and
thus, with a haughty air, addressed me . I desire, madam,
you Will never more, upon any account, wear those clothes in
the piece we perform to-night^*’ I replied know not,
madam, by what right you take upon you to dictate to me
what I shall wear. And I assure you, madam, you must ask
it in a very different manner befoie you obtain my compliance ”
She now found it necessary to solicit in a softer strain , and I
readily gave my assent. The piece consequently went through
without any more murmuring on her part, whatever might be
her sensations

However, the next night I sported my other suit, which
was much moie splendid than the former This rekindled
Mrs. Woffingfcon^s rage, so that it nearly bordered on madness.
When — oh ^ dire to tell ^ — she drove me off the carpet, and
gave me the coup de gidce almost behind the scenes, the
audience, who, I believe, preferred hearing my last dying
speech to seeing her beauty and fine attitude, could not avoid
perceiving her violence, and testified their displeasure at it.

Though I despise revenge, I do not dislike retaliation I
therefore put on my yellow and purple once more As soon
as I appeared in the green-room, her fury could not be kept
within bounds, notwithstanding one of the corps diplomahque
was then paying homage to her beauty, and for the moment
made her imagine she had the power of control equal to a
real queen She imperiously questioned me, how I dared to
dress again in the manner she had so strictly prohibited.
The only return I made to this insolent interrogation was by a
smile of contempt Upon which, she immediately sent for

* A nch effect certainly, but we may wonder how the six or eight
chandeliers over the stage could light up the colours

VOL. n. p

202 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

Mr Eicli^ bufc that gentleman piudently declined attending
her summons

Being now ready to buist with the contending passions
which agitated her bosom, she told me it was well for me that
I had a mimster to supply my exti’avagance with jewels and
such paraphei nalia Finding I had got myself into a dis-
agieeable piedicament, I made as quick an exit as possible,
notwithstanding I woie the regalia of a queen ^ It may be
sujDposed that after so public a rapture we nerer spoke.

A stiange sequel now occurred behind the scenes, which
caused some talk Miss Bellamy had been much followed
by a man of fashion, Mr Metham, who, like other men of
fashion, seemed to have been admitted behind the scenes.
One night she was peiforming Lady Fanciful, when they had
some difference.

At the beginning of the fifth act (she tells us), as I was
crossing the back of the scenes, m ordei to go on the stage
from the opposite side, Mr. Metham mot me, and conjured mo
to let him speak one word with mo in the hall. As the
prompter never rings the bell for the music to cease till he
sees all those who aie to begin the act ready to go on, I
complied for a moment with his request. But I was no
sooner got without the door, than he caught me up in his
arms, and, hurrying through the passage, placed mo m a
coach that his valet had ready to leceivo me. The audience
at the theatre, as I afterwards learnt, being out of all patience
at so unusual a continuation of the music, made the noise they
generally do upon such occasions. This called Mr Quin from
his dressiog-room, which lay contiguous to the stage, to inquire
the reason of it. Lady Fanciful was lepeatedly called, but no
Lady Fanciful answered. It was now found that a real rape
(if a running away with, where there is no resistance, might be
so termed) had interrupted the progress of the play. Nothing
remained to be done but to acquaint the house with what

* The nest season Mr Foote produced a little piece, which he entitled,
The Green-room Squabble, or, A Battle Eoyal between the Queen of Babylon
and the Daughter of Daxius.'^

SCEISTES BEHmD THE SCENES.

203

had unexpectedly happened. Mr Quin, accordingly, in the
character of Sir John Brute, which he was performing, made
an apology to the audience by informing them that he was
come to beg their excuse for the fantastical girl of quality,
whose company they would unfortunately be disappointed of
at the conclusion of the piece, as she had left heart-free, upon
finding an admirer that was made on purpose for her.

This further illustrates what has been so often insisted
upon in these pages — the mtimate relation between the
manners of the time and the stage.

CHAPTER IV.

FOOTE AED THE MIMICS.

The first year of Garrick^s management was remarkable as
bringing seriously forward the late celebrated Samuel Foote,
wbo, after failing as a regular actor, now appeared at tie
Haymarket in quite an oiiginal form of entertainment, de-
pending on bis own powers of mimicry and vivacity, being
tbe earliest of tbos© clever delineators wbo later followed.
Foote, however, differed from these in employing inferior
characters to help him, and a sort of drama was given , but
it could not be called an entertainment of the stage.*^^

It will be seen how easily tbe law was evaded by tbe
advertisement of bis predecessor in the place.

At Oibber^s Academy in the Haymarket will be a Concert,
after which will be exhibited (gratis) a rehearsal, in tbe form
of a play, called Romeo and Juliet

Tbe following advertisement also adds a picture of tbe
shifts theatrical adventurers bad recourse to to baffle tbe
magistrates. In 1756, Theo Cibber appeared at tbe Richmond
Theatre, and issued tbe following :

Cibber and Co , snuff merchants, sell at their warehouse
at Richmond Hill most excellent cephalic snuff, winch, taken
in moderate quantities, in tbe evening especially, will not fail

FOOTE AKD THE MIMICS.

205

to raise the spirits, clear the brain, throw off all ill humours,
dispel the spleen, enliven the imagination, exhilarate the mind,
give ]oy to the heart, and greatly mvigorate and improve the
understanding. Mr Cibber has also opened at the aforesaid
warehouse, late called the Theatre, on the hill, an histrionic
academy for the instruction of young persons of genius in the
art of acting, and proposes, for the better improvement of
such pupils, and frequently with his assistance, to give public
rehearsals without hire, gain, or reward.

Foote called his show Diversions of the Mornmg,^^ and as
there were dialogues with characters, the Drury Lane patentee
interposed and attempted to put him down. He then adopted
the fiction of inviting people to tea — ^^Mr. Foote will give
tea;^^ then he had ^^an auction of pictures,^^ and his per-
sonalities, and the lifelike way in which he introduced well-
known characters, made him most acceptable The late
Mr. Forster, an admirable specimen of the literary man, and
one of the last of the really sound and cultured critics, looked
on Foote with extraordinary favour But this was scarcely
warranted. There is not a parallel in literary history of a man
for many years making a livelihood by bringing successively
on the stage any person known for a little oddity, or even for
physical mfirmity. A long list could be made out of the
persons he thus tortured

Among Mr. Murphy^s papers was found a sketch of Foote’s
life-

Samuel Foote was bom (I beheve, but that may easily be
ascertained by the register) about the year 1721, at Truro, in
Cornwall; his father, who was an attorney, and some time
member for Tiverton in Devonshire, had considerable places
under Government , his mother was of the ancient family of
the Dineleys, of Charlton ifi Worcestershire, who married with
the Gooderes, of Burghope in Herefordshire; both of these
families were of an eccentric turn of mind, which Mr Foote
appears to have inherited and preserved to the last In 1739,

206 A ITEW HISTORY OE THE ENG-LISH STAOE

being indisposed, lie was advised to go to Bath, where he soon
made acquaintance with gamesters and men of pleasure. On
returning to college, with two footmen and a ridiculous
quantity of laced clothes, he was reproved by the provost;
when, findmg a college life not suited to his genius, he quitted it
m 1740, but without any public censure. He had an early
turn for mimickry and acting. He is said, when at Oxford, to
have acted Punch in disguise In the interval, fiom the time
of his leaving college and coming upon the stage, he was
frequently in great distress. He was once confined for
debt in the Fleet, and, I believe, released by an act of
insolvency, at the same time, one White was there con-
fined for cheating the Bank An old schoolfellow told me
he dined with him there on turbot, venison, and claret, and
never spent a cheeifuller day, for, while White found money,
Mr Foote furnished wit, ]ollity, and humour His first essay,
as an author, was wiitten about this time , it was a pamphlet
giving an account of one of his uncles, who was executed for
murdering his other uncle

In one of his excursions to Oxford with a certain lady, for
whom he afterwards procured an husband, lio drove a coach
and SIX grays He lented Charlton House, the family seat in
Worcestershire, where he hved in some splendour for about a
year and a half. During his magnificence there ho invited his
old schoolmaster, Mr. Miles, to dino with him, who, admiring
his service of plate and well-furnished sideboard, very innocently
asked Mr. Foote what it might cost ? Indeed, says he, I know
not, but sure I am I shall soon know what it will bring. He
was too fond of detraction and mimickry, adds Mr Jesse Foote,
which were blemishes in his conversation, though you were
entertained by them. He was ridiculously vain of his family
and of his classical knowledge, which was superficial, and
boasted of his numerous relations amongst the old nobility.
He was very extravagant, but by no means generous ; though
he spared no expense in his entertainments nor in wine, yet he
did not understand a table He affected to have disguised
cookery and French dishes, and never eat plain meat. He was
not clean in his person, and was disgusting in his manner of
eating , but he was so pleasant a fellow, and had such a flow
of spirits, that you forgot his faults and pardoned his want of

FOOTE AND THE MIMICS

207

elegance and decency ; lie always took tke lead in conversa-
tion^ and was generally the okief or sole performei.

This IS a bitter sketchy yet not exaggerated

He was civil to your face, and seldom put you out of
humour with yourself, but you paid for his civility the
moment you were out of his company, and were sure of being
made ridiculous , yet he was not as malignant as some men I
have known , but his vanity and the desire he had of shov/ing
his wit made him run into satire and detraction He loved
titled men, and was proud of their company, though he gave
himself airs of treating them with scoin He was licentious
and profligate, and -frequently made a jest of leligion and
morality. He told a story very well, and added many pleasant
circumstances of his own invention to heighten it, and could
speak plausibly on grave subjects, but he soon giew tired of
serious conveisation, and leturned naturally to his favouiite
amusement, mimickry, in which he did not excel, for he was
coaise and unfair, and diew caricatures. But he entei tamed
you more than a closer mimick

He was a bad actor, and always ran into faice, and in
tiagedy he was detestable, for whenever he aimed at ex-
pression he was distoited His voice, face, and figuie weie
equally disagreeable, yet, under all these disadvantages, he
acted many paits in his own plays much better than those
who have appealed in them since his death, such as Major
Stuigeon, Cadwallader, the Nabob, etc , these are characters
stiongly ridiculous, and he succeeded in them As a wntei he
had meiit, though his principal characters are portraits ; but
if he had been more diligent in finishing his pieces they might
affoid entertainment on the stage at this day He was always
buying rings, snuff-boxes, toys, etc, which weie a great
expense to him, and was a bubble at play

lu one of his clever fnend^s note-books was found tho
following hint for a character m a play

Eoote gives a dinner, laige company, characters come one
by one, sketches them as they come , each enters , he glad to
see each At dinner his wit, affectation, pride, his expense, his

208 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

plate^ Lis ]okes, Lis stories, all laugL; all go one by one, all
abused, one by one ; Lis toad-eaters stay, Le praises Limself in
a passion against all tLe world

TLis scene actually occurred, and is described by
Mr. EdgewortL.

In prirate life Le sLowed tLe same unamiable qualities, and
notLingwas so commonly reported of Lim, or so well known,
as tLis practice of iidiculing any friend wLo left tLe company
Tate Wilkinson gives a grapLic sketcL of Lim in tLis mood
Sir F Delaval Lad ]ust brougLt Wilkinson m to Lis dinner-table

And as a trait I Lave before observed in Footers cLaracter
wLen Lis real best friend, Sir Fiancis Delaval, left tLe room,
wLere tLere were not less tLan eigLt or ten peisons, eacL of
wLom Le knew would relate again wLat Le said, Le burst out
into a loud laugL, and turning to me said Wilkinson, did
you ever Lear sucL a Lound giving Lis sentiments on good
tables and living^ Since my return from Ireland,^^ added
Foote, “I Lave Lad tLe mortification to dmo Leie six times,

and eaoL day a d large loin of pork on tLe table, wLicL

Le calls a dinner Fll not dine Lere again tLese tLiee montLs,
for 1 suppose Le means to run Lis loin of pork against * TLe
Beggar^s Opera ' *

Foote Las been panegyrised brilliantly by some of tLe leading
critics of our time Of Lis abilities theie can be no question ;
but tLere can be little doubt that, as a member of society, Le was
a wretcL, a cruel, Leartless fellow, and a nuisance He gained
Lis living by giving pain to otLers, and as Lis wants increased
so tLe tortures Le inflicted were increased. His practice was to
excite curiosity and applause by bringing public people on tLe
stage, not merely for Larmless laugLter, but in a sort of
malignant way.

He took off ” pLysical infirmities of women , tLe old , tLe
young — spared notLing. Two or tLree persons Le did spare —
one, Di% JoLnson, wLo bougLt a cudgel, and said that Le Lad

POOTE AOT THE MIMICS.

209

done so j another^ a well-known Dr Kennedy^ wko was apset
m a sedan going to Dr Goldsmitk^s, and was nearly killed.
On tkis Foote, wko had him sketched^ felt/^ as Goldsmith
said, ^^for once compunctious, and forbore

Here we have an excellent touching of Foote, besides
showing nice observation of character and dramatic sketching
Says Wilkinson ,

Mr. Foote was irresistible, spontaneous, and not confined to
manner or character ; for wherever he aimed his humour and
raillery, he shot the object as it flew by his quick fancy, and
all with a superior degree to his opponents

When Mr. Garrick was at the noon rehearsals, he ever was
on the listen, and if he heard Foote and the performers joking,
would enter all full of whim, and affected easy affability and
equality, and made himself one of the laughing group , and at
every jest of Footers appeared to pay particular tributes of
sui prise, applause, and attention , but when in turn he related
what he had studied and prepared as very comical, if the same
repetition of approbation as had gone before, attendant to
Footers humour, was wanting to his, he has been cut to the
soul at finding Footers superiority, which was generally the
consequence when both were pitched for battle and eager for
victory at the game of repartee and sparring sarcasm , and
which was frequently granted to Foote by the courtieis and
adulators of Garrick, even dependmg on the smiles of their
master, and under the apprehension of incurring the terror and
loss of favour from offended majesty.

One great reason, as a man of wit, for Footers superiority
on such convivial meetmgs was that he, like the American,
felt bold, knew his superiority, which was raised by the perfect
knowledge of Garrick^s fears, and which made Foote so easy
that he gave not himself the trouble to hate. Mr Foote
would frequently say to Mr. Garrick Bless me, we have
been laughing away our time , it is past three o^clock , have
you and Mrs. Garrick enough for a third, without infringing
on your servants^ generosity, for I know they are on board
wages ^ Besides, the kitchen fire may be gone out, if it be one
of your cold-meat days, or if one of Mrs Garrick^s fast days j I

210 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

cannot expect a dinner on emergency On Footers repeating
such a whimsical jargon, Gairick would act a laugh like Bayes,
though all the joke lay, like Mr. Bayes', m the boots.

It IS curious that through the whole course of the Buglish
stage can be traced this distinct line of entertainmeut, and which,
always popular, was m its greatest vogue during the last cen-
tury It was reserved, however, for one era — that of Garrick
and Foote — to make signal pi ofit out of mimicking other actors
and their doings on the stage The pedigree of the successful
mimics might be thus set out Garrick, Foote, Tate Wilkinson,
Stevens, Mathews, Bannister. To these succeeded the more
general, and therefoie haimless — Parry^s, Woodm^s, etc Foote
was certainly the most powerful of this class, he possessed
real humour and was a vigorous writer, but he was cruel, un-
scrupulous, and the more detestable because he lived and made
money by torturing his victims. It was stiange the lotiibu-
tion that oveitook him, as he himself became the victim of
another who made a scandalous charge against him, and
crushed him

It seems extraordinary, the delight of the public in this sort
of entertammoiit, and the enjoyment with which they received
this imitation on the stage of a theatre A subsidiary mimic,
whom Foote himself tiaincd, and who afterwards became a well-
known character — ^Tate Wilkinson — ^has left us some graphic
accounts of their practices, and of the confusion the intro-
duction of such an element on the legitimate boards led to
The scenes he records are full of comedy, and, as they illustrate
the theatrical manners of the time, may be perused with in-
terest This young fellow, who was clever, forward, and spite-
ful, Foote took to Dublin with him, to help him in his show.

It was appointed for me to appear the Monday following m
Mr. Footers Tea,^^ in the character of a pupil, under Mr Puzzle,
the supposed director of aroheaisal Mr. Puzzle, by Mr Foote.

rOOTE AND THE MIMICS

211

When the night came^ Lord Horhes, Mr. Ohaignean^ and all my
friends went to enconiage and support me, and engaged all they
knew for the same purpose.

The bill ran thus .

After the Play
Mr Foote will give TEA
Mr Puzzle (the instructor), Mr Foote
Fust Pupil, by a Yowa Gentleman.

{Who neveo appeared on any stage befoi e )

By eight in the evening I was m fuE dress behind the scenes ,
I had never been there before ; the company were all strangeis
to me I not knowing how to enter into conversation with the
performers, and being announced as a pupil of Mr Footers, I
did not receive any civility fiom them I, on reflection^ soon
grew weary of my solitary seat m the green-room, alone in a
crowd, and between the play and farce looked through a hole
m the cuitain and beheld an awful pleasing sight — a ciowded,
splendid audience, such as might strike the boldest with dismay

The farce began, and Mr Foote gained great applause, and
roars of laughter succeeded In the second act my time of trial
drew neai , in about ten minutes I was called Mr Wilkinson ^
Mr Wilkinson Had I obeyed a natural impulse, I was really
so alarmed that I should have run away But honour pricked
me on, theie was no alternative — my biain was a chaos , but
on I went, and must have made a very sheepish, timid appeal -
ance, as fiom fear, late illness, and apprehension, I trembled
hke a frighted clown in a pantomime , which Foote perceiving,
good-naturedly took me by the hand and led me forward.

Foote, peiceiving I was not fit for action, said to his two
friends on the stage (seated like Smith and Johnson in the
rehearsal) This young gentleman has not yet been properly
drilled But come, my young friend, walk across the stage ;
breathe yourself, and show your figure I did so , the walk
en com aged me, and another loud applause succeeded. I felt
a glow, which seemed to say What have you to fear ^ Now,
or never This is the night that eithei makes you or undoes
you quite And on the applause being repeated, I said to my-
self, “ That IS as loud as any I have heard given to Mr Garrick.^'
I mustered up courage and began with Mr Luke Sparks of

212 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE.

London (brother to Isaac Sparks, then in Dublin), in the
character o£ Oapulet. Most of the gentlemen in the boxes
knew all the London players. A gentleman cued out, Sparks
of London ^ Sparks of London * The applause resounded,
even to my astonishment, and the audience were equally
amazed, as they found something where they in fact expected
nothing Next speech was their favourite Bariy in '^Alexander, ”
universally known, and as universally felt. I now found myself
vastly elated and clevei. Dear was vanished, and ]oy and
pleasure succeeded, a proof what barometers we are ^ how soon
elated, and how soon depressed * When quite at ease, I began
with Mrs Woffington in Lady Macbeth, and Bairy in Macbeth.
The laughter (which is the strongest applause on a comic occa-
sion) was so loud and incessant that I could not proceed. This
was a minute of luxury , I was then in the region of bliss , I
was encored, A sudden thought occurred , I felt all hardy,
all alert, all nerve, and immediately advanced six steps. My
mastei, as he was called, sat on the stage at the same time,
I repeated twelve or fourteen lines of the very prologue he
had spoke that night (being called foi) to the author, and he
had almost every night repeated. I betore Mr Foote piesented
his other self , the audience from repetition were as perfect as
I was , his manner, his voice, his oddities I so exactly hit, that
the pleasure, the glee it gave may easily be conceived, to see
and hear the mimic mimicked, and it really gave me a com-
plete victory oVer Mr Foote , for the suddenness of the action
tripped up his audacity so much, that he, with all his effrontery,
sat foolish, wishing to appear equally pleased with the audience^
hilt hiew not how to play that difficult pa 7 1 he was unprepared j
the surprise and satisfaction was such, that, without any con-
clusion, the curtain was obhged to drop with reiterated bursts
of applause. They are remarkable in Dubhn, when pleased, to
continue applauding till the curtain falls, often not suffering
the play to finish.

When the farce, called Tea,^^ was concluded, I had great
congratulations paid seiiously and ironically. Mr. Foote
affected to be vastly pleased; but, in truth, it was merely
affectation, so differently do we feel for ourselves when ridicule
IS pointed at us, but he said it was pei'feotly well ]udged to
make free with him, yet he did not think it very like himself.

I’OOTE AND TSE MIMICS

213

for it certainly was my worst imitation, but be rejoiced at my
good fortune

The conversation tbe nest day, particularly of all my eager
partial friends^ was an universal cry of Foote outdone * Foote
outdone ^ tbe pupil tbe master *

But ill-nature was never so fearfully and strangely
chastised Tbe man wbo bad taken off physical infirmities
himself was maimed for life by a fall from bis horse, and be
wbo bad made so many wretched by tbe terror of bis ridicule,
was at last sent to bis grave by a terrible charge — untrue, no
doubt, but tbe effect of which was tbe same as though it bad
been true. What a contrast between him and tbe amiable
Goldsmith ^ *

* Some of his frolics were amusing “A baronet who was there, and had
been crossed in love, became, from disappointment, such a hypochondriac, that
at times he was a damper to their mirth, and all their fun had no effect to
chase his melancholy Eveiy day complaining of some new bodily complaint,
one night they hid a tailor in a large closet in his bedioom, and whilst he was
asleep his waistcoat was considerably reduced m breadth , when, putting it on
in the morning, he was so alarmed, expecting a speedy dropsy, that he lay in
bed for three days afterwards , in the meantime his waistcoat was returned to
Its former size On his recovery, the fiist night at supper, Foote had pre
viously proposed to have the wax candles painted different colours, and to
place before the disconsolate visitor a black one , at the same time the whole
party, as well as the servants, were in the secret At supper, fixing his eyes
some time on it, he observed to those who sat next to him, ‘ The candles seem
to have different colours ’ ‘ Why, what colour should they have ? ’ was the
reply For the present he took no further notice, but, calling to the servant
for some wine, when he brought it (the black candle right before him) asked
him the colour of the candle ‘White, to be sure, sir,’ was his immediate
reply On the instant, he rose, exclaiming, ‘ This is too much,’ and hurried
out of the room The next morning, at an early hour, he ordered his carnage
and returned to town to consult his physician ”

CHAPTER V.

DOUGLAS.”

The story of Home and Ins play is liigUy cliaiacteiistic of
tlie nature of the Scotch, who had persuaded themselves of the
merits of his play, and by a fixed determination resolved that
justice should be done to him, and the piece brought out With
characteristic energy the plan was carried through, even though
it was found to involve a conflict with the Church, of which the
author and his leading friends were ordained ministers Persons
in high places encouraged their promising countryman, so that
under such auspices success for a good and poetical piece was
assured , while it is likely that a piece of equal merit, but less
befriended, might have failed

It was thus that there was produced at Covent Garden one
of the few noted plays which made a sensation, and for a long
time belonged to the stock list” This was the tragedy of
Douglas,” written by a Scotch clergyman. In the composi-
tion of this woik the friends of the bard combined to aid him
with critical lights and suggestions, including the amiable Sir
Gilbert Elliot. When it was at last completed, it was twice
offered to Garrick, and declined by him, and on the second
occasion the author set out for London, accompanied by a
number of admirers and '^bottle-holders,” strong believers in

“DOUGLAS ”

215

tlie play. This was m I'TSS, and Gairick, in declining, declared
that it was totally unfit for the stage Mr Forster hints that
this was owing to the prominent female character, which
wakened the ]ealousy of Davy The tiuth was, its rejection
may be set down, not as a want of judgment, or as prompted
by any invidious motive, but as one of those unlucky mis-
takes which nearly every manager has to repent, owing to
wearmess, or carelessness, or accident The fact of its being
presented by an obscure clergyman was sufficient warrant for
the manager to decline its acceptance

But, indeed, the ministers of that day seemed, according to
Dr Carlyle’s account, to have been a loose and disorderly class,
and the Presbytery of Glasgow spoke in quaintly amusing
style of " the melancholy fact that theie should have been a
tragedy written by a mmister of the Church ” There were more
heinous offences that might have “exercised” them How-
ever, some thirty years later, when Mrs Siddons visited
Edinburgh, it was found impossible to have a full meeting of
the Assembly on the nights she performed.

When the play was taken to London to Covent Garden,
the hero was performed by Barry with extraordinary success.
It long remained a stock-piece, while “My name is Norval”
is firmly rooted in the school “ speakers,” and is a favourite
delivery ” for schoolboys. The enthusiastic Scots of the
day pronounced that it was superior to Shakespeare Garrick,
now repentant and eager, brought out other of his pieces, but
they were failures — the reason of this lack of success being
that, in the first case, he had written a play because he had
a story to tell , in the second, he had contiived a story because
he had to write a play. A Scotch parson, and a Scotch subject,
eould not have been recommendations Much mortified, he
returned home, and the piece was brought out at Edin-
burgh, where it had great success, though bringing much

216 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

trouble to the clergy wbo attended tbe performances^ tbe
part of tbe hero being taken by West Digges^ great
profligate and spendthrift/^ says Dr Cailyle, ^^and poltroon,
I am afraid, into the bargain/^ Mrs Ward created the
part of Lady Randolph

The sensation produced is not more remarkable than is
the curious interest in the drama exhibited.

But Mrs Ward^s beauty, for she was very beautiful, and
feeling, tutored with the most zealous anxiety by the author
and his friends, charmed and affected the audience as much,
perhaps, as has ever been accomplished by the very superior
acti esses of aftertimes I was then a boy, but of an age
to be sometimes admitted as a sort of page to the tea-
drinking parties of Edinburgh. I have a perfect recollec-
tion of the strong sensation which ^ Douglas^ excited among
its inhabitants The men talked of the rehearsals, while
we are are told that the ladies repeated what they had
heard of the story, some had procured, as a great favour,
copies of the most striking passages, which they recited at the
earnest request of the company I was present at the repre-
sentation , the applause was enthusiastic , but a better criterion
of its merits was the tears of the audience, which the tender
part of the drama drew forth unsparingly. The town,^^ adds
Dr Carlyle (and I can vouch how truly), was in an uproar of
exultation that a Scotsman should write a tragedy of the first
rate, and that its merits were first submitted to them

Many years later, in 1773, the worthy author completed a
comedy, which he sent to the manager. In an unpublished
letter the latter writes

I must tell you with that frankness, friendship, and sin-
cerity which I have always professed, that I was never more
disappointed in my life , indeed, my worthy friend, if I have
the least judgment in these matters, your comedy is not in the

“DOUaLAS ”

217

least calculated for the stage. (He details the points of the
play, etc) You hare vexed and distressed me, for I see no
remedy by alteration, addition, or omission which I can yet
suggest/^

Home replied from Kildaff

^^If I was possessed with as many devils as ever haunted a
]ealous author (which are no small number, as you well know)
I could not for one moment doubt your kindness, your friend-
ship, or your sincerity, yet I am not convinced that the play is
good for nothing (He then proposed altering it, etc )

Nothing IS clearer, both from Dr Oarlyle^s memoirs and
Garrick^s correspondence, that he was unfairly condemned for
rejecting Douglas *

Hume, in a ridiculous burst of extravagance, declared that
the author possessed the true theatric genius of Shakespeare
and Otway, refined from the unhappy barbarism of the one
and the licentiousness of the other

The sequel was that the alarm of the Oalvinistio party was
awakened , and the fact of the mmisters having patronised a
drama written by one of their body caused proceedings to be
taken in the Assembly and other courts. The death of Lady
Eandolph was held to imply a vindication of suicide, while a
solemn prayer addressed to the Almighty was an irreverence.
The author was actually driven to retire from his calling.

The names of cleiical dramatists that will recur to the
memory seem very few. But they have been very diligent con-
tributors to the drama Mr Sanders of Oxford has made out
a list of nearly one hundred clergymen who have thus em-
ployed their pens But more singular is the number of those
who have been successful These include Dr Brown (author
of ^'Barbarossa’O Dr Oroly, Dr. Delap, Sir H. Bate Dudley,
Dr Francis, Dr, Francklm, Dr. Hoadley, Home, Mason,

* See also tke author’s ‘‘ Life of Gaiiick,” where the subject is fully treated.

Q

VOL II.

218 A ISTEW HISTOET OF THE EHOLISH STAG-E

MilmanjTownley^ and Young (author of the “Night Thoughts”).
Dr Brady^ of Tate and Brady fame^ wrote a tragedy with
the odd title of The Eape of the Innocent Impostors Dr,
Dodd left unrepresented tragedies Many, more obscure, could
be named In the year 1768, a gentleman in holy orders pre-
sented himself upon the Dublin stage as Scrub, in ^^The Beaux's
Stratagem of Faiquhar i Walker wrote to Garrick , We
have a parson to appear in Scrub, with Mr Mossop as Archer,
such an extraordinary metamorphosis will no doubt excite
curiosity The town cannot now complain that they have had
no novelty, this is perhaps the gieatest the stage ever knew,
though it IS thought the canonical gentlemen will be so
scandalised as to influence a party against him , but, however
it happens, ic will bung one great house at least, perhaps
several, and if we can but escape civil, we do not much mind
ecclesiastical censure Excommunication is not half so terrible
to our state as an execution/^

It has always been a problem why a land, like Scotland,
abounding in poets, novelists, and humoiists, should be so
totally deficient in this gieat department of the stage, having
neither dramatists nor actois to show Douglas^^ is perhaps
the solitary effort, for the efforts of Thomson and others of
the class are not worth consideiing On the other hand, the
sister isle almost abounds in dramatic wealth For writers it
can point to Farquhar, Steele, Southern, Bickerstaff, Gold-
smith, Sheridan, O'Keefe, Sheridan Knowles. Of actors the
list IS of extraordinary iichness and power Delane, Eyan,
Quin, Mrs Woffington, Mrs Olive, Mossop, Barry, Sheridan,
Miss Farren, Mis Jordan, Miss O'Neill, Mrs. Glover, and
many more.

Yet there is no nation so iichly endowed as the Scotch
— ^rich m poets, historians, and philosophers — but it has no
literary baggage to show in the department of the stage..

DOUGLAS ”

219

There is literally no Scotch drama There are three Scotch
actors This is an extraordinary deficiency in so brilliant
a nation, and would seem to support Charles Lamb^s not
altogether fanciful theory of the literalness of the Scotch-
man, which would seem opposed to the pretence of mimicry
or the delicate sense of innuendo or double entend}ey on
which so much of what is dramatic depends. There is indeed
this piece once in such high fashion, but now never acted, but
it stands alone As for actors and actresses, it is almost a
complete blank The late Mr Phelps, it is believed, was of
Scottish extraction, though born in England, and there have
been a few local performers of Scotch characters, though,
strange to say, the best expositors of such like parts have
been Macklin and Cooke — ^two Irishmen. The lush indeed
may be envied their marvellous and undisputed supremacy in
either department It will be enough to name *’^The Beaux’s
Stratagem,^ * The Conscious Lovers,^^ She Stoops to
Conquer,^^ The Good-natured Man,^^ The School for
Scandal,^^ ^^The Eivals,^^ and ^^Wild Oats^^ An attempt
has even been made to claim Congreve, but this cannot be
decently supported. It may be ]ust subject of congratulation
for natives of Ireland that three of the best comedies in the
English language should have been the work of Irishmen, viz.,
“The Beaux^s Stratagem,” “She Stoops to OonqueiV^ and
“The School for Scandal.^^ Earquhar^s healthy, bold, and
natural style long leavened the stage, down to the days of
“The Clandestine Marriage But the German school was
soon sickbed o^er the good old Enghsh style As is well
known. Goldsmith^ s pieces were written in protest against
the Hugh Kelly sentimentals, and ran much risk of being
condemned for what was thought their farcical vulgarity

One of the most enjoyable pieces of the English stage, when
acted m the genuine spirit of comedy — ^that is, with an earnest

Q 2

220 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENG-LISH STAGE.

belief in tbe characters played — is ^^High Life below Stairs/^
produced in 1759, It would be impossible to give too much
praise to this bright^ closely-written, and laughter-moving
piece, and which holds its own beside Dickenses admirable
meeting of the Bath footmen, in Pickwick Actors of our
time that have performed misconceive the spirit m which it
should be played, as though they were to the duty of making
the characters they played ridiculous. Some of the touches
are admirable — the high words between Sir Harry and the
Duke, the expressions of fashionable life, When. I and Boh,
the Bishop, kept it up the whole night,^^ etc , are in the best
style of comedy It met with the most amazing success in
London, but the more sensitive Scotch footmen created riots to
put it down They even threatened the players. The nobility
and gentry, however, were so indignant at this treatment, they
formed an association to put down the footmen, and bound
themselves by agieement to abolish vails It has been a
sub 3 eot of debate who was the real author of this piece, and the
name of the Eev Tanner Townley, a preacher of repute, and
master of Merchant Taylors^ School, has been always attached
to it. I am inclined to ascribe, as it has often been ascribed,
the best portions to Garrick, who, in The Clandestine
Marriage,^^ had shown his capacity *

There would appear to be no reason for concealment, as all
danger would equally attend the production as the authorship
The real author was found in The Spectator,^' No. 88.

Palling in the other day at a victualling-house; near the House

* Mr DiTsdiB, however, says that he knows that Garrick fitted it for the
stage,” and that neither Townley nor he wrote it, Tbut Dr Hoadly and others
had the chief share On the other hand, the author of ^*The Biographia
Dramatica ” assigned the authorship of this piece absolutely to Mr Townley,
of which fact the late Mr Murphy became satisfied before his death, from
the testimonials of James Townley, Esq. , the author’s son , and it was Mr
Mnrphy’s intention to have corrected the fact, m a second edition of hxs Life
of Garrick”

^‘DOUGLAS ”

221

of Peers^ I heard the maid come down and tell the landlady at
the bar that my Lord Bishop swore he would throw her out of
the window if she did not bring up more mild beer, and that
my Lord Duke would have a double mug of purl,^^ The whole
play IS surely there.

Pew comedies have received such high praise, or been so
adorned with good acting, as The Jealous Wif e,^^ produced in
1761. Many good judges, both of his time and later, have
pronounced it to be one of the best — one said the best —
comedies in the language. It is founded in the school of
Farquhar, and has some of his spirit , and this, it may be
added, is not a difficult thing for a clever professional dramatist
to acquire With study and constant reading the ideas and
associations begin to run in the same channel. Hazlitt says
justly, ^^It IS a chef and worthy of being acted oftener

and better than it is *

Dibdin also says

It IS one of the best comedies on the stage, thanks, how-
ever, in great measure to Garrick, for never was there an
occasion where his assistance was more wanted, or rendered
more honestly or more effectually. Colman was a young
author, which will easily be credited, when the reader knows
that ^ The Musical Lady ^ made originally a part of ^ The
Jealous Wife ^ He had the good sense to listen to Garrick,
who took great pains with the task assigned him, and in
the performing it evinced great judgment and knowledge of
effect Garrick suggested the alterations, but Colman wrote
the whole.^^

* It was noted in tins play tliere was a fine touch, of comedy, brought out
Iby Kemble When the husband and wife are engaged in one of their disputes
the servant enteis to announce a visitor The husband, who has been speaking
with severity, suddenly changes his tone, and bids the servant show up the lady,
In accents of the most perfect courtesy.

222 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAOE.

WitE this consensus of appiohation. the piece may he
fairly held entitled to be deserving of such praise

On November 26th, 1761, had died that old and most
successful of manageis and pantomimists, Mr. John Eich, ^^at
his house m 0 event Garden Piazza, at the age of seventy-
nine He had been manager about fifty years On his tomb
was written ‘^In him weie united the various virtues that
could endear him to his family, friends, and acquaintances.
Distress never failed to find relief in his bounty Hogarth
has left some pleasing family pieces of the manager and
his wife and children, grouped in a gaiden. But for years
before his death he had become a most eccentric person, full
of oddities and cultivating a sort of dialect of his own. One
of these singularities consisted in giving new names and
variations of names to his friends, as being moie convenient to
pronounce, and at the same time giatifying his whim, for he
seems to have been what is called a piivileged person. It is
curious to find how nearly he is brought into connection with
our own times. The father of the late Charles Mathews acted
under Tate Wilkinson, who formed his style on Rich’s, and
knew him well and used to mimic him.

The manager was so pleased with his mimicry that he
offered his pupil a formal engagement, and promised to lam
him the part of the Gardener

^^He took his snuff, stroaked his cat, and said, ^ If I give it
Muster Shuttleworth he will not let me teach him, and he is
so idle I want it perfect, Muster Williamskin, but I will
larn you, muster, if you will play the part from my tuition ^
We were one noon hard at work with the part of the
Gardener, when Mr Younger the prompter abruptly came
into the room on urgent and immediate stage state affairs
Rich, perceiving him, turned hastily about, and in a rage said ;
^Get away, Muster Toungmore, I am teaching Muster

“DOUaLAS.”

223

Wliittiiigton to act/ I frankly told him tkat I was at kis
command for ten weeks only, wkereat my old master grew
I turned sullen, and our interview concluded as
follows — Mr Rich So you will not sign your article, Muster
Wilkinson, and let me larn you — M} W%l'ki%son No, sirj
articles may be repented on both sides^ and I would ratker
agree for a skorter term, and renew, if mutually agreeable.—
Mr Rich Why, then. Muster Williamskin, wkat will you do ^
for Muster Griskin (Mr Gariick) told me in the summer ke
would never engage you again, you have offended kim,
muster, and ke will never forgive you ; and Muster Williamskin,
you did not attend my theatre when summoned, and I not only
made you a liberal offer, but endeavoured to be the making of
you by learning you to act — Mr W%lh%nson, My good sir, I
am truly obliged to you for your offers , but must repeat, I do
not relish a confined engagement Eatker than be under an
article for three years I would prefer rambling for six , there-
fore, good sir, with my sincere thanks and wishes, unless you
will agiee for ten weeks, I mean to set sail m a few days for
Ireland — ^His astonishment and answer I shall never forget,*
though his prophecy was not in respect to myself verified, yet
I have reason to fear some adventurers possessed of too much
faith in promises woefully experienced real disappointment.—
Ml Rich (sternly) Muster Williamskin, Ell tell you what will
be the consequences of your headstrong ignorance ; you will
go over to Dublin, and engage with the tall man, Muster
Barlymore , he will promise you a large salary, of which you
will not receive a second gumea ; for that Muster Barlymore
can wheedle a bird from the tree, and squeeze it to death m
his hand* Muster Williamskin, here is five guineas as a

* Tins was a seyere canoature of Bariy, but shrewd and too near a
resemblance.”

224 A ISTEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAOE,

ticket for your Irisli benefit, tkat you may be sure of some-
tking I ^isk you a good journey — your servant — He left the
room in a pet

EicVs brother-in-law, the singer. Beard, now adminis-
tered Oovent Garden, but the late manager had left in-
structions in his will that the whole property was to be sold
so soon as desirable purchasers could be found Even at this
date the old privileges had not been abolished In September,
1763, at the bottom of a Oovent Garden playbill we read this
humble petition •

Whereas many complaints have been made of interruptions
in the performances of the theatre occasioned by the admis-
sion of persons behind the scenes, in order to prevent the
like for the future, it is humbly hoped no nobleman or gentle-
man will insist on a privilege so displeasing to the audience
in general, whose approbation it is the duty as well as the
interest of the managers to endeavour on all occasions to
desire

Several years, however, were to elapse before suitable
purchasers could be found.

A curious scene that took place not long before RicVs
death shows how much the performers took upon themselves,
and how difllcult it was to deal with them. Miss Bellamy
had been lately confined in the King^s Bench prison, and
used to obtain a day rule to go out and act, and, as it was
scarcely proper that such a person should appear before the
public, the name of Miss Wilford, a favourite of Mrs EicVs,
was substituted. Miss Bellamy's name was in the bill. She
says ;

^^At twelve o^clock I received a visit from Mr Gibson, the
deputy manager, who informed me of the mistake, and re-
quested that I would give up the part, telling me at the same

« DOUGLAS ’’

225

time that tlie managers would^ upon my doing so^ give out
handbills to announce the error to the public I instantly
replied ^ I am an indulged servant of the public, and let
what will happen, I will not suffer my name to be altered^ but
play the character I will ^ Mr Gibson then left me^ with
seeming regret, declaring I should diaw upon me the hatied
of the family. Upon sending my servant to look at the
playbills, she brought me word that the men were at that
moment changing them, and that the mistake was pointed
out in a Nota Bene Hearing this, I %nstantly sent to have
Tiandlills printed, and distributed among the audience as they
went into the house In this bill I only mentioned the cir-
cumstance which had occasioned it, simply as it was, at the
same time telling them that, as I esteemed myself the acknow-
ledged child of their favour, I thought it my duty to be ready
in case I should that evening be honoured with the preference
When the curtain diew up there was a universal cry for your
humble servant, and upon Oordelia^s appearance Miss Wilford
was obliged to withdraw. Being ready dressed for the
character, I immediately made my entrh amidst universal
applause.*^^

An undignified quarrel, that took place in 1761 between
Shuter and Mrs Clive, was of course made an occasion for taking
the public into confidence It was conducted, however^ good-
humouredly, and is entertaining enough These scenes are
worth recording, also, as showing the social position of actors ,
though it must be remembered that their behaviour, however
outre it may appear to our canons, was in harmony with the
disordeily tone of general society.

She had written to the papers complaining of a letter from
the George Coffee-house ‘^As I have always heard it was
frequented by gentlemen, it could not come from thence

226 A ]^EW HISTORY OP THE EHG-LISH STAGE

SRe IS sure it was Shuter’s There is a malicious and wicked
insinuation m his letter He exhorts the public not to go to
my benefit^ because I was to have a French farce^ wrote by a
poor wretched author^ and called ^ The Island o£ Slaves/ and
then^ with great malice and art^ he jumbles together some
popular words^ as ^ French farce/ ^ English liberty/ ^ Island of
Slaves^ . , , I hope I may be indulged/^ she goes on/^^/iowg^Ti
a woman, to say I have always despised the French politics, but
I never yet heard we were at war with their wit / and adds, ^ it
should not be imputed to her as a ciime to have a translation
produced when one pait in three of the comedies now acting
are taken from the Fiench, besides those of modern authors
that have sneaked into the theatres without confessing from
whence they came The lively woman goes on ^^It does not
seem, by the style of his letter, that he is veiy intimately
acquainted with his own language, but it is evident he
knows nothing of the French/^

Shuter wrote in reply, his benefit, which was on the same
night as heis, was, thanks to the indulgence of the public,
as usual, a very gi eat one, Mrs Olivers, I suppose, shoit of
her expectations.’’^ But the truth was, he had explained the
whole matter to her in private A strangely- written letter had
reached him, which, with some malice, he printed with all its
faults of spelling

Sib,

I Must Desire you would Do Me the favor to let Me
know if you was the anther of a letter in The Dayle Gazetteer
relating to the New Peice I had for my benefet as it was
intended to hurt my benefit and serve yours every body will
Naturely conclude you was the auther if you are not assham^d
of being so I suppose you wall own it if you really was not
concerned in wrightm it I shall be very glad for I should be

« DOUGLAS ”

227

extieamly sTiock^d tliat an actor sliould be guilty of so base an
action I dont often take tbe libeity of wiigkting to tte
publiok but am Now under a Nessesitty of Doing it — ^therefore
Desier your answer.

Henrietta St.

Sbuter actually went before a magistrate and swore an
affidavit to tbe same effect^ tbat be was not tbe author of tbe
letter, and finally wiote to ber tbat be was ^^ber real admirer
and well-wisber.^^

CHAPTER VI.

THE LITTLE THEATEE IN THE HATMAEKET

Peom the date of the huilding of Covent Garden the course
of the English stage may be followed in the career of three
theatres — ^Drury Lane^ Corent Garden, and the Haymarket.
These were the only houses that trained companies. It is
remarkable that the Haymarket had for nearly fifty yeais,
Tiz j from 1720* till 1766, lived a sort of uncertain fluctuating
existence, offering shows of various kinds, operas, conjurers,
dancing dogs, and monologue entertainments But when
Foote, by breaking his leg — an accident fortunate at least in
its compensation — obtained a patent, through the interest of
the Duke of York, there came a complete change, the place
was elevated into dignity and was an institution. The patent,
indeed, was curiously limited to a compromise between the
new and the old contending interests, and the house could
only be opened during the summer season.

* The opening of the house was thus announced in a daily paper of
Becemher 15th, 1720 At the New Theatre in the Haymarket, between Little
Suffolk Street and James Street, which is now completely finished, will be
performed a French comedy, as soon as the rest of the actors arrive fiom
Pans, who are duly expected The prices were, boxes and pit, 55 ; gallery,
2s 6d On the second night, the prices were altered to hoses, 45 , pit, 2s 6d ,
gallery, I 5 6d Boring some time they played four nights per week, and
afterwards only two nights, till Hay 4tli.

THE LITTLE THEATRE IH THE HATMABKET 229

A Listory of the little theatre in the Haymarket would
he an interesting one, it is associated with so many interesting
events It is curious that the old and original Haymaiket
Theatre should have lasted almost exactly one hundred years,
VIZ from December, 1720, to August, 1820, when it was
pulled down and the present building erected, which again was
remodelled in 1880

The glories of the old theatre are associated with the names
of Foote and Oolman, two remarkable men, the first, like
Sheridan, being a wit as well as a writer of witty plays, and
a popular performer also, ]ust as Sheridan was a performer on
another kind of stage The Colmans, father and son, were
wits as well as play- writers It is amazing to find this pro-
digal distribution of gifts, now unhappily so scarce Garrick
was an actor-manager, as well as a clever play- writer , Steele,
essayist as well as play- writer , Cibber, an actor-manager and
play-wnter , even Rich was manager, performer, and wiiter of
pantomimes The story of Foote has a strange interest, being
dramatic to a degree; we know so much of ib, too, owing
to the labours of Mr Forster and Boswell, that he seems
a figure of colour and flesh and blood There was to
be something tragic and yet not wholly undeserved in his
end.

The accident which made Foote a patentee befell him in
the month of February, 1766, when he was on a visit at
Lord MexborougVs A horse of the Duke of YorVs, of a
VICIOUS temper, was being spoken of, and the actor, with an
absurd vanity, asserted that though he generally pi ef erred
the luxury of a postchaise, he could ride as well as most he
ever knew.^^ He was thrown, and his leg so dieadfully
shattered that it was obliged to be cut off — a terribly fatal
blow for an actor Yet, such was his spirit, that he detei mined
to persevere, he even made jests of his infirmity. But the

230 A -mw HISTORY OF THE EKGLISH STAGE,

duke, whose beast had caused the mischief^ felt himself
bound to make amends, and took the exceptional step of
promising him a patent for the Haymarket It might be
thought that would have been violently resisted as an in-
fringement on the privileges of the older patentees, but it
was curiously arranged that this was only to take effect
during summer, viz., from May 15th to September 15th An
unprofitable arrangement it might be thought, as audiences
would, for a large portion of the time at least, be out of town
He then purchased the lease of the premises, incorporated a
house in Little Suffolk Street with the theatre, removed two
shops which were in front, m the Haymarket, built a portico,
increased the number of avenues, and added a second gallery
to the auditory. He opened it regularly during his season ,
and during the remainder of the year let the theatre for
various entertamments, among which were occasionally a
puppet-show at noon, and an Italian fantoccini Here aban-
doning his entertainments,^^ he entered on a series of so-
called comedy quite as personal ; the leading characters and
incidents of which were drawn from life/^

The amusing Reynolds gives us a sketch of Foote receiving
the King at the door of his theatre He makes a mistake in
calling the King George the Second

I can remember (he says) the very ton© and expression he
assumed when, after desciibing the gallantry of his corps on
marching home, he exclaims, ^^We were all stopped and
robbed by a single highwayman ^ The first time that ever
the King attended the Haymarket, this farce commenced the
evening^s performance When His Ma 3 esty arrived at the
theatre, Foote, as manager, hobbled to the stage-door to
receive him ; but, as he played in the first piece, instead of
wearing the Court dress, usual on these occasions, he was
equipped in the immense cocked hat, cumbrous boots, and

THE LITTLE THEATEE IN THE HAYMAEKET 231

all tie other paraphernalia and appurtenances of the most
grotesque military uniform imaginable The moment His
Ma]esty cast his eyes on this extraordinary figure as he
stood bowing, stumping, and wriggling with his wooden leg,
he receded with astonishment, saymg, ^^What is that man^
What regiment does he belong to ^

His mania for personality seems unexampled, and was
carried out persistently through his life, and in the most un-
scrupulous fashion Thus, when the beautiful Miss Linley
eloped with young Mi Sheridan — the cause of much trouble
to both families as well as of duels, etc to the gentlemen —
Foote seized on the incident to give it even more publicity,
and brought out a piece called ^^The Maid of Bath When
he gave a box to Mrs. Baddeley, to grace (as he was pleased
to say) his theatre

The box reserved for us was next to the stage-box,
that commanded a view of the whole house, and we went
Mr Foote performed in this play himself, it went off with
eclat, and was well received by a crowded house About the
middle of the piece, where Mr Foote enlarged much on the
beauty of the Maid of Bath, he added Not even the beauty
of the Nine Muses, nor even that of the divine Baddeley
herself, who there sits"^ (pointing to the box where we sat),
"could exceed that of the Maid of Bath/^ This drew a
thunder of applause from all parts of the house , he was encored
and Mr Foote repeated the words three times Every eye
was on Mrs Baddeley, and I do not recollect ever seeing her
so confused before She rose from her seat and curtsied to
the audience, and it was near a quarter of an hour before she
could discontinue her obeisance, the plaudits lasting so long.
This trick of Mr Footers put her so much to the blush, that
the colour did not leave her face the whole evening

With this may be compared another of these free-and-easy

232 A KEW HISTOET OE THE EHaLISH STAG-B

appeals^ made, many years later, by a free comiqiiey to the
audience •

One night (says Reynolds) while 1 was sitting in the front
row of the balcony-box at the Haymarket, during the per-
formance of ^^The Son-in-Law,^^ in the excellent scene of
equivoque between Cranky and Bowkit, when the former,
after making ob]ection to the other^s ofEer to marry his
daughter, observes ‘^Besides, you are such an ugly fellow *
Ugly,^^ repeated Edwin, who played Bowkit, ugly * ” then
coolly advancing towards the lamps he cried ^^Now, I submit
to the decision of an enlightened British public, which is the
ugliest fellow of the thee — I, Old Cranky, or^^ (he continued,
pointing to me) ^Hhat gentleman loi the front o ow of the halcony-
box ^ Aroused by this appeal, I suddenly found myself
changed from a state of peaceful piivacy into the object of
the laughter, scrutiny, and pointing fingers of two-thirds of
the audience

Footers pieces are not dramas, and have neither story nor
situations The Trip to Calais,^^ for instance, which caused
him such trouble, is unmeaning, save as a reproduction of
an incident that had occurred, A father and mother go over to
Calais after their runaway daughter, who is sheltered in a
convent, whence she declines to come forth. Lady Kitty
Crocodile, the Duchess of Kingston, then proposes to take
her to live with her as companion in Calais, with which
plan the parents are delighted. Most of Footers stories are of
this newspaper kind He had evidently first conceived some
dioll characters, fitted them out with quaint sayings and
speeches, but gave them nothing to do There is a character
in one of Footers plays whose treatment and development
show that the author belongs to the true school of wit.
Given the problem of dealing with some discursive, tedious
old man, rambling from topic to topic, it could not be treated
in more lively or amusing style.

THE LITTLE THEATEE IK THE HAYMAEKET 233

Says Mr Aircastle to his lady ConTinced me^ Did I
not tell yon what Parson Prunello said — I remember Mrs
Lightfoot was by — she had been brought to bed^ that day
was a months o£ a very fine boy — a bad birth, for Doctor
Seeton, who served his time with Luke Lancet of Guise^s—
there was a talk about him and Nancy the daughter — she
afterwards married Will Whitlow^ another apprentice, who
had great expectations from an old uncle in the Grenades ;
but he left all to a distant relation, Kit Cable, a midshipman
aboard the Torhay — she was lost, coming home in the Channel
— the captain was taken up by a coaster from Eye, loaded
with cheese

Mrs Avr Mercy upon me, Mr. Aircastle, at what a rate
you run on * What has all this to do with our coming to
London ^

Ai't Why, I was going to tell you; but you will never
have patience ^

And again

Aw I told her so, Mr Flaw Zounds, says I, you treat
the boy as if he were a white bear or an ostrich — though it is
quite a mistake, Mr Flaw, that those creatures eat non I
saw one once at the Ohecquer at Salisbury — the keeper^s name
was Evan Thomas, a Welshman — ^he had but one hand — ^he
lost the other endeavouring to steal a piece of cheese out of a
rat-tiap — the trap went down, and

Mrs A'li Did ever mortal see such a man ?

Air And, zounds, why must not I speak ? She likes to
listen to no sounds but her own , but I will be heard, and

Mrs Ai'i And so you shall, when you talk to the purpose.

Air Purpose, madam ^ D it, I would have you to

know

Flaw Oh, fy, fy, good people ^ curb your cholers a little.
Consider you are not now in the country

Air Well, well, I am calm

In 1763, the now successful Garnck, finding, after sixteen
years, that his attractions had begun to fail a little, resolved
to undertake a tour abroad, and accordingly set ofi for France

234 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

and Italy; in wliioTx countries lie was treated with much dis-
tinction On his return in 1765; having talked with Olairon
and seen all the great theatres^ he determined on introducing
quite a novelty in the mode of lighting the stage* **
hear/^ said one of the ]ournals in September; ^^that the
managers of Drury Lane Theatre will endeavour to light the
stage this season without the branches; which have been
thought a very great obstruction to the entertainment of the
spectators It is said that this change is now made Before
thiS; in 1762; the theatre had been altered by lengthening
the stage; enlarging the boxes and pit by taking in one of the
lobbies; rebuilding the galleries, and forming the steps on each
Side into Green Boxes This was one of the patchings the
old house was to undergo before it was taken down

This new lighting was the modern footlights; and to
Garrick certainly belongs the credit of originating this reform.
It will be noted that it was recommended on the ground of
its being less of an obstruction , but indeed; as a matter of
scenic effect; it is a distinct retrogression; for the light,
thrown upwards, oasts the shadows on the face in wrong
places, and renders the features harsh f To this day, how-
ever, this rude mode has held its ground. There is need of
a device more scientific.

About 1760, an observer pointed out the want of propriety
and order in the regulation of the scenes. The scene-shifters
often present us with dull clouds hanging in a lady^s dressing-
room, trees intermingled with the disunited portions of a
portico, a vaulted roof unsupported Sometimes King Eichard’s
troops appear in the uniforms of the soldiers in St. Jameses

* The stage and Boenery were lit by three hundred patent lamps, and the

** speotatory '' by two hundred and seventy was candles

t In the author’s work, ‘‘The World behind the Scenes,” this matter is
investigated

THE LITTLE THEATEE IH THE HAYMAEHET 235

Park with, skort ]ackets and cocked-up kats. King Rickard,
indeed, wears tke dress of kis time, but not so Rickmond ;
wkile tke bishop is stiffened into reformers^ lawn sleeves, with
trencker-cap and tassel. Again, it is equally ridiculous to
behold tke actors making tkeir entrances through plastered
walls and wainscots instead of through doors This objec-
tion, however, opens up the whole question of scenic delusion
I firmly believe that the present system of enclosing the
stage, presenting the copy of an actual room, with ceiling,
doors, etc , is fatal to illusion The more general the scenery the
better for this end, it should be rather an indication of what
IS intended, so as to convey a haziness, for the more complete
the imitation of real things the less delusion there is The old
mode of entrance from the wing ” seems to make the boundary
between the world off the stage and that on it suitably in-
distinct , the actor seems to enter on the scene — ^not to come
in through a canvas door But it would take too long to
develop these principles here

It has been mentioned that, during G-arrick^s absence,
Powell, a young actor, had made an extraordinary impression,
and, to the managers uneasiness, was put forward as a sort of
rival There was no serious danger however; but he was
good-looking, popular, and interesting, and soon found great
patrons Accordingly, when it was known that Beard was
tired of administering Oovent Garden and purveying operas, and
was willing to dispose of the patent, he was thought of as a
suitable person to have a share in the new management Two
others were presently found. Garrick was deeply wounded at
finding the actor he had trained and counselled at his house,
and the friend, Oolman, with whom he had written a play,
proposing to oppose him

Beard^s influence with his father-in-law had been exerted
in favour of operas, m which his fine voice could be exerted .

B 2

236 A NEW HISTORr OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

^^TLe Beggar^s Opera,” Jovial Crew,” ^^Oomus,” ^^The
Ohaplet,” etc. These vrere alternated with pantomimes and
showS; such as The Coronation/^ during the run of which
the old manager had died

The theatre was left nominally to he carried on by Beard,
but was really bequeathed to Mrs Beard, Mrs Bencroft,
and Mrs. Morris, the three daughters The singing element
was further developed, and an opportunity was taken now to
bring forward an Italian opera, the work, however, of an
English composer, Arne, whose ^^Artaxerxes,” based on Italian
models, did credit to the country His name, however, will
ever be associated with that well-known and spirited anthem,
^^Rule Britannia” This course was found very profitable,
especially as the interest in Drury Lane had begun to diminish
sensibly, and it was proved by the large sum — 60,O00Z —
presently to be received for the undertaking

The value of the property was then considered to be 60,OOOZ ,
subject to a ground-rent of 300Z At this price, in 1767,
Colman, Harris, Powell, the actor, and Rutherford, pur-
chased the concern from Riches heirs, each having a quarter
share , but after some disputes, the chief interest passed to
Harris, who held seven-twelfths, Powell holding the remainder.
Harris later disposed of a sixth to Mr. John Kemble,
For this the latter paid the enormous sum of 22,000Z, which
rated the value of the whole at 1S2,OOOZ. He, however,
only paid down 10,OOOZ m cash, leaving his profits on the
rest to accumulate The share of Powell became vested in
his three daughters, one of these married an eccentric Dr.
Fisher,* a musician. Of the other sisteis, one married a
Mr, "Warren, and on his death, Mr, Martindale, who kept

* Of this Eisber, Kelly says “ I have heard Moody say that he came one
evening into the green-room, when he was present, and abused an actress for
having torn her petticoat , and when questioned by her as to his right to do
so, he replied, with great pomposity, * All the nght xu the world, madam , I

THE LITTLE THEATEE IE THE HAYMAEKET. 237

a gaming olubliouse at St. Jameses Wlien she was left a
widow for the second time^ she bequeathed her share to Mr
Oonst^ the well-known magistrate There was a third sister,
who married a Mr White, one of the clerks in the House of
Commons , and Mr. Willett, and Captain Forbes, marrying
her two daughters, became entitled to represent her share
The Powell interest was therefore at last represented by
Messrs Const, Willett and Forbes, Dr Fisher having disposed
of the other daughter's share, a sixteenth.

It IS not generally known that about the time Oovent
Garden Theatre was changing hands a plan was on foot for
disposing of Drury Lane. Garrick and his partner had almost
concluded a treaty by which George Gariick was to hold his
brother's shaie. and King and Holland the other moiety But
at the last moment Lacy declined to go on with the matter.
This was in 1767

It was indeed to be a year of industry for Drury Lane, as
during the fiffcy-seven nights no less than thiity-four new
pieces had been brought out

When the new composite management of Oovent Garden
was formed, consisting of Oolman, a dramatist; Powell, an
actor, Eutherford and Harris, it might have been predicted
that out of such elements some discordance was likely to arise
The manager of Drury Lane was hurt at this coalition, as one
of his own authors and friends, and the actor whose reputation
his theatre had made, leagued themselves against him To
add to the unpleasant look of the transaction, Oolman had a
violent dispute with him as to their respective shares in The
Clandestine Marriage Yet Gairick said handsomely that

iave to look after my own property , for know, madam, the sixteenth part of
the petticoat which yoa have destroyed belongs to me, and is mine, to all
intents and purposes ’ When his wife died, he parted with his share, to the
great joy of the other partners m the concern **

238 A ’NW^ HISTOBT OF THE EHOLISH STAGE

this very ground cleared him from blame But Powell^ he said^
was ^^a scoundrel/^ and Oolman would repent ever having
joined with him

This young actor, though he may have seemed ungrateful^
scarcely deserved such an epithet , for on the stage, of all
places in the world, gratitude, from the conditions of the
scene, is difficult to hope for or to find. The reputation that
one makes is so much abstracted from a rivul, as all “live to
please,^^ and pleasing regulates profit , but too often gratitude
can only be exercised at the sacrifice of profit Powell was a
young clerk in a counting-house, and had made his debut in
October, 1763 * Of this alliance it was related

Harns and Eutherford had conceived the idea of taking
the theatre, and proposed to invite some third person of ability
and experience in theatrical affairs to 30m with them in the
purchase. They therefore thought of Powell. He urged
taking Mr. Oolman as a fourth, to which the others were at
first averse, but afterwards, m consideration of Mr, Colman^s
talents as a dramatic writer and his known familiar inter-
course with the stage, they consented. By articles dated
March 31st, 1767, Harris and Eutherford were empowered
to make the purchase, on the ]oint account of all four, at
60,000Z , the parties to be jomtly and equally concerned in the
management When, in pursuance of this agreement, the
contract was made with Mr Eich^s executors, the parties met
to settle the form of articles between them, but to the surprise
of Harns and Eutherford, Colman proposed that he himself
should be invested with the entire management Though they
wished to take active part in the management themselves, it
was agreed that Mr. Oolman should have ^ the power of

* He had proceeded from piece to piece and success to success with this
financial result at the end of the season receipts, 29,0232 9s 6d , expenses,
22,4882 8s fid j leaving a profit of 6535Z, Is

THE LITTLE THEATBE m THE HAYMARKET. 239

engaging and dismissing performers, of receiTing and reject-
ing new pieces, of casting plays, of appointing wliat
exlnbitions should be performed, and of conducting all such
things as are generally understood to be comprehended in the
dramatic and theatrical province, but that he should, how-
ever, communicate and submit his conduct to Messrs Hams
and Rutherford, s^nd, in case they should signify their
disapprobation thereof in writing, the measure so disapproved
should not be carried into execution/ It was also, by a
subsequent writing, mutually agreed between the parties,
^that Mr Powell should have for seven years 400Z per
annum and a clear benefit, but that if any other performer
should be engaged at a larger salary, then such addition
should be made to the salary of Mr Powell as would exceed
the salary of such other performer ^ ’’

On the 1st of July the purchase-money was paid, and
Mr Powell having only personal security to offer for the sum,
he was, on this occasion, obliged to boiiow Mr. Harris
agreed to give the lender real security of his own On the
other hand, a nobleman is said to have helped him The
complaints they made of the treatment they underwent are
rather of a petulant kind — that Oolman did not properly
introduce all the principal actors to his brother-patentees,
but, on their first appearance at the theatre, he being seated
on the middle of the stage, he petulantly desired them to
withdraw, lest they should interrupt the rehearsal

Though he had engaged to submit his conduct to Messrs
Harris and Rutherford, he soon grew impatient even of
the appearance of control , and though, after much expostula-
tion, he assented to a weekly meeting for advising about the
business of the theatre, it lasted only a few weeks, nor was it
of any effect while it did last, as he neither would lay open his
whole plan, to know the opinion of his colleagues, nor act in

240 A lifEW HISTOET OF THE ENOLISH STAGE

conformity when he did know it On the 29th of October, he
openly disclaimed their right to lay him under any lestraint^
and declared^ in positive terms, that he would never disclose
to them any of his future intentions, but would be lespon-
sible to the public only. On his own authority and with-
out their knowledge or consent, he engaged Mr and
Mrs Yates , Mr Tates at 101 a week, with a benefit,
and Mrs Yates at 600Z a season, with a benefit, notwith-
standing, in a consultation held a few days before on the
sub]ect, it had been unanimously agreed this should not be
done

Mr. Golman having inserted a few lines in The RehearsaV^
and intended an alteration of ^^King Lear,^^ proposed to
take between 601 and 701 out of the tieasurer^s hands
on that account, and, not being opposed, did take out such
sum. Some time afterwards, when he was required by
Messrs Hams and Rutherford to produce the play, with the
alterations, or lepay the money, he did not think proper to do
either.

Soon it came to an open disagreement, and they joined
issue on the production of a play.

To George Oolman, Esq*

Sir,

We absolutely disapprove the performance of ^^Cym-
beline^^ at our theatre till further consideration

T. Harris, I, Rutherroed

December 30th, 1767.

About an hour afterwards they received the following
Gentlemen,

I have received your mandate, and will print it, as a
reason to the pubhc for performing no play to-morrow

Geo. Oolman.

THE LITTLE THEATEB IH THE HAYMABKET 241

Gentlemen,

Great part of oar boxes being taken for tke play of
Oymbelme/^ great damage must accrue to my property by
your mettod of proceeding, and I must appeal to my friends
and tke public for redress I most sincerely concur with.
Mr Oolman^s sentiments above, and shall abide by bis
determination I am, your bumble Servant,

W. Powell

To prevent tbe theatre fiom being shut up, Messrs Harris
and Eutberford sent tbe following notice to Mr Oolman :

To George Oolman, Esq.

Sir,

If you refuse to give directions for a play to-morrow
night, we shall Whether they will be obeyed or not is for
futuie consideration What you are pleased to call our mandate
can be no reason for shutting up the theatre, as you have the
whole circle of the drama Oymbeline excepted) from whence
to elect the play Whatever damages may arise, we doubt not,
will be at your peril, as they can only ensue from your com-
mitting a breach of the most solemn and legal engagements
We are your humble Servants.

Mr, Oolman, though he abandoned the theatre on this
occasion, left Mr Powell to give out the play in dispute, which
was accoidingly acted on the 31st of December, in open
defiance of Messrs. Harris and Eutberford, and m direct breach
of the articles between the parties

Messrs Harris and Eutberford now thought it absolutely
necessary to audit the accounts of the theatre and inquire
into the state of the wardrobe They therefore ordered the
treasurer to piepare his accounts, and desired Mrs Powell, by
letter, to send whatever was in her possession to the wardrobe-
keeper^ s office Mr Powell answered, by letter, that this
requisition could not be complied with, the unappropiiated
cloaths of the theatre having ever been kept out of the house,
under the care of one of the proprietors.^^

242 A NEW HISTOET OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.

This did not promise well The behaviour of Colman
appears a little high-handed, but it is evident that he con-
ceived that he and his colleague knew more about the stage
than his financial partners. The Court of Chancery had to be
invoked to settle the rights of the parties But the chief
quarrel was in reference to the claims of Mrs. Yates and Mrs
Lessingham, Colman being naturally in favour of the former.

In the law proceedings the following incidents of theatrical
life were formally scheduled

March 31st, 1767 Articles of agreement between Thomas
Harris, Esq, first part, John Eutherford, Esq, second part,
Geoige Colman, Esq, third pait, and William Powell, Esq.,
fourth part, stating that Messrs Harris and Eutherford were
in tieaty for the purchase of two patents and everything be-
longing to Oovent Garden Theatre, from Mrs. Piiscilla Eich,
and that the whole was purchased for 60,OOOZ. In May, 1767,
Mr Colman was appointed manager, under certain restrictions.
He was to communicate and submit his conduct to Messrs
Harris and Eutherford , and if they disapproved of his
measuies they were to be discontinued On July the 1st, 1768,
the contract with Mrs Eich was completed Mr Colman, in a
very shoit time after, acted in the management of the theatre
without consulting his partners At length, in June, 1769,
Mr Colman thought proper to exclude the partners from
the house , all the windows and doors were barricaded , and
Mr Charles Sarjant and Mr Flight, housekeeper and assistant-
housekeeper, were, in Mr Colman^s name, to keep possession of
the theatre Messrs Hams and Eutherford, having been
refused admittance, had recourse to force they turned out
Mr Sarjant and his assistants, ordering at the same time ad-
mittance to Mr Colman and Mr Powell Messrs Harris and
Eutherford kept possession for a few days, when a ]ustice of
the peace was found hardy enough to dispossess them, and
restored Mr Sarjant, who literally was no more than their
servant and housekeeper More violence was followed up on
the part of Sarjant Two schedules were given in evidence to
show that the performers were paid without their consent during
the years 1768, 1769, and 1770

THE LITTLE THEATBE IH THE HAYMABHET. m

This shows on what a splendid scale a grand theatre was
conducted.

A list of performers^ etc at the Theatre Royal in Covent
Gardea^ with their salaries per diem, 14th September, 1767

Actors — per day Messrs Powell, 2Z 155 , Woodward,
21 15s , Smith, 2Z , Shuter, 2Z , Yates, Dyer, IZ. Is 8d ,
Clarke, IZ , Dunstall, IZ , Gibson, IZ , Bensley, I 65 8 cZ ,
Barrington, II 5 , Hull, IO 5 , Davis, 85 4d , Morris, 8s 4d ,
Casey, 5s , Cushing, 65 8d , Bennet, 6s 8d , Holton, 6s 8d ,
Perry, 6 s 8 «i , R Smith, 6 s 8d , Gardner, 6s 8d , Weller,
6 s. 8d , T. Smith, 5s , Wignell, 5s. , Le Lewes, 5s , Redman,
4s 2d . , Bates, 3s 4cZ , Quick, 5s , Mozeen, 3s 4d , Morgan,
8 s 4^Z , Massey, 3s 4d , Stoppelear, 3s 4d , Hallam, 3s 4cZ ,
C Smith, 2s 6d , Wylde, 2s 6d , Bamford, 3s 4d

Men Singers — ^per day Messrs. Mattocks, IZ 3s 4^Z ,
Squib, IZ , Dibdin, 10s , Du Bellamy, 10s , Baker, 6 s 8d ,
Legg, 5s , Mahoon, 10s.

Men Dancers — per day Messrs. Fishar, IZ , Larivier,
16s 8d j Miles, 18s 4£Z , Aldridge, 13s 4d , Arnold Fishar,
6 s 8d , Settree, 5s , Dumay, 6 s , Hussey, 5s , Pedro, 5s ;
Curtal, 5s , Banks, 5s , Rayner, 4s 2cZ., King, 4s 2d.;
Meiry field, 4s 2d , Blurton, 3s 4d

Prompters — per day Messrs Younger, 13s 4d , Bryan,
3s. 4d , Stede, 3s 4d

Music — per day . Messrs. Simpson, 10s 6d . , Bumgarton,
10s 6 tZ , Miller, 10s 6 cZ. , Wood, 6 s 8d ; Buckley, 6 s 8d ,
Foulis, 6 s 3cZ , Jones, 5s lOd , Grey, 5s., Gillier, 5s , Rich,
5s , Muller, 5s , Long, 5s , Yin cent, 5s , Don wait, 5s ,
Real, 5s , Beaumont, 5s , Linicke, 5s ; Lowe, 5s , Blanc, 5s ,
Scoval, 4s 7d. , Sar 3 ant, 4s. 2<Z. , Heron, 4s 2cZ , Payne,
8 s 4cZ , Goodman, Is. 8 cZ

Actresses — per day Mesd Yates, Bellamy, IZ 13s 4cZ ,
Macklin, IZ 8 s 4d , Buckley, IZ 3s 4d ; Lessingham,
Ward, IZ , Ward, Miss; Yincent, 13s 4cZ ; Green, 10s ,
Pitt, 10s , Dyer, 6 s 8d , Barrington, 69 8d , Gardner, 5s. ,
Ogilvie, 5s , Stevens, 5s , Helme, 4s 2d , , Evans, 3s 4cZ ,
Pearse, 3s 4d , Mills, 3s 4d , Ford, 3s 4d ; Oopen, 3s 4cZ ;
Cockayne, 3s 4cZ , Ferguson, 3s 4d , White, 3 s 4d , Du
Bellamy, 3s. 4d ; Weller, 3s. 4d , Perry, 3s. 4d ; Davis,

244 A 3>[EW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

3^. 4d, , Parfett, 6s, 8d , Allen^ Ss M, With six Women
Singeis and eleven Women Dancers,

Total — ^Actors, 35 21Z Is lOd ^ Men Singers^ 7 3Z 15s ^
Men Dancers, 15 5Z 15s lOcZ , Prompters, 3 IZ , Actiesses,
29 lOZ, 2s 6^Z ; Women Singers, 6 5Z 3s 4cZ , Women
Dancers, 11 3Z. 5s 10(£ , Servants, etc , 50 13Z 5s The

total making 63 Z

The reader will be interested at seeing how an author's
three nights and its charges were arranged *

Saturday, February 29th, 1772 — Grecian Daughter and
Lottery^'’ Boxes, 124Z 12s 6d ; pit, 51Z 76 6d , first
gallery, 60Z 11s , second gallery, 16Z. Cash, 252Z 11s.
Chaiges, 73Z 10s Balance, 179Z Is

Monday, Maich 9th, 1772 — Grecian Daughtei and
Devil to Pay^^ Boxes, 130Z 2s 6^Z , pit, 53Z 14s , fiist
gallery, 61Z 6s , second gallery, 19Z 6s Cash, 264Z 8s 6d
Ohaiges, 73 Z 10s Balance, 190Z 18s 6d

Monday, March 16th, 1772 — '^Grecian Daughter and
^'Absent Man^^ Boxes, 128Z 10s , pit, 61Z 18s , first
gallery, 64Z 10s ; second gallery, 19Z 19s 6cZ Cash,
264Z 17s 6d Charges, 78Z 10s Balance, 191Z 7s 6cZ

Account of after money February 29th, 3Z 10s 6d ;
March 9th, IZ 13s 6d , March 16th, 21 15s 6d Total,
71 19s 6d

First, 179Z Is , second, 190Z 18s 6d , third, 191Z 7s 6d j
after money, 71 19s 6d April 4th, received, 569Z 6s 6d
First benefit, 252Z 11s , after money, 3Z 10s 6d Total,
256Z Is 6d, Second benefit,* 264Z 8s 6d , after money,
IZ 13s 6d. Total, 266Z 2s Third benefit, 264/ 17s 6d,,
after money, 2 Z 15s 6d Total, 26 7Z 13s Fust, 256Z Is 6cZ,
second, 266Z 2s ; third, 267Z 13s Total, in three nights,
789Z 16s 6d

Mrs Lessingham was an inferior actress, but of great beauty,
who had an extraordinary caieer in connection with Derncb,
who also had a singular story.* One of the managers was
interested in this lady, and hence the dispute No less than

Told m J Taylor^s ounous ** Records ”

THE LITTLE THEATRE IH THE HAYMARKET 245

four pampHets were issued^ full of reciimination and details^
entitled^ ^^True State/^ Difference,^^ etc Harris at

last sent a challenge to Oolman in thus form ^^You are
welcome to my life if you dare anyhow to hazard the taking
of it ^ To which Colman replied As to my daring to
take your life, Grod knows I dare not do it, but you and
every other man shall find that I dare on all occasions to
defend my own The young Powell, however, was cut off
in his prime in 1769, leaving a family, of whom a pleasing
picture hangs in the Garrick Club Not until 1771 were the
contending managers reconciled at a formal dinner at Golman^s

Miss Bellamy, who was at this time engaged at the house,
gives us some curious pictures of the life behind the scenes
during this distracted reign This extraordinary woman, ever
the cause of confusion and trouble at the theatres, having
some grievances against Mr John Oalcraft, a well-known
character, had announced a pamphlet in which she was to
expose him

Just before the play began, Oolman came to my dressing-
room and informed me that, in consequence of my advertise-
ment, Mr Oalcraft had been at his house vowing vengeance
against the theatre if I did not promise to give up all thoughts
of such a publication , which, he said, was at once putting a
dagger into his heart and a pistol to his head He concluded,
with many imprecations, that, if I did not at least give some
time, he would not only put his threats into execution, but
apply to the Lord Chamberlain to have me silenced

Oolman, urging on her that she was playing under a
later licence from the Bankrupt Commissioners,^^ prevailed on
her to postpone publication

She also describes how the managers drew the actors mto
the quarrel, Mr Oolman taking round a paper to be signed,
adopting him as director, and expressing approbation of his
conduct.

m A NEW HISTOBT OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

Mr Oolman was scarcely gone before Mr. Entberford and
Mr Woodward came in, and, I have some reason to think, on
the same business, as the former immediately exclaimed,
Have you signed it ? Upon my answering m the negative,

but acknowledging that the paper was left with me for my
<5onsideration, Mr Eutherford wanted me to show it to him.
This I absolutely refused to do , saying, I wondered any gentle-
man who professed liberal sentiments could advise a breach of
trust He told me that, if he had got hold of it, he would have
buint it, as he was sure two capital performers had signed it,
who would not have done so had another paper been presented
in their favour

We have here, too, a sketch of the eccentric patronesses of
The Beggar^ s Opera,^^ whom we have met befoie

At length the day of my benefit came The Douglas cause
was decided that day in their favour, to the very great moiti-
fication of the house of Hamilton When my two patronesses
appeared the applause was great, but, upon the young gentle-
man’s enteiing, it increased , and the Duchess of Douglas,
making more courtesies upon the occasion than her companion
thought needful, she leaned over the young gentleman who sat
between them, and cried out, Sit down. Peg • This had
such an effect upon me, who stood on the same side ready to
make my appearance, that I burst into such a fit of laughter
as prevented me from going on immediately, as I ought to have
done But this was not all Her grace being in high good-
humour, she kept calling out, occasionally loud enough for me
to hear, Well said, Mary ^ Biavo, Mary ^ which, united
with the former, was very near turning the said story we were
enacting into a tragi- comedy ^ for it was with the greatest
difficiulty I could keep my risible faculties in any decorum

The quarrels between the managers were fuither inflamed
by the presence of a stormy personage, who generally bi ought
contention with him This was Macklin, who at once took
part against Oolman, ]oming with gusto in the fray, and, it
was said, drawing up the bills in Chancery himself His
cause of dislike was the treatment of his daughter, who had

THE LITTLE THEATEE IN THE HAYMAEKET 247

declined a part for not having time given her to study it.
The following might find a place in a novels or have come from
the pen of Captain Oostigan

SlE^

I have been informed that, upon receipt of Miss
Macklin^s note on Wednesday night, you concluded that it
was a note of evasion, and calculated to distress you, and to
obstruct the business of Go vent Garden Theatre,

And I am likewise informed that, the next day, in a spirit
of high indignation, you publicly read her note in Mr Giiffin^s,
the bookseller shop, in Catherine Street, and at the same time
made this remarkable comment on it That it was evasive
and 3esuitical, and calculated to injure the play, and that I was
pfivy to and advising in the measure

The disagreements among the proprietors of Oovent Garden
have turned that theatre ^nto a den of faction and a fo'i ge of
falsehood I do not suppose that the managers or actors of
St Stephen's Chapel, in the most factious and corrupt era^
ever produced more slander and falsehood than the theatre of
Covent Garden has caused during the short period of your
management, or a more malignant spirit, or a greater liar,
than the person who writes The Theatrical Monitoi,^^ as I
hope to prove in the course of this inquiry , and I must add
that, as far as positive evidence and unforced deductions lead
to truth, Mr Colman and Mr Powell, on this and many
occasions relative to me, have been the forgers and propagatoi s
of much untruth

But the special accounts of these ingenious forgeries shall^
in proper time and placOj he laid before the public At present,
sir, I mean to confine my inquiry only to a scandalous report,
relative to your conduct towards Miss Macklin and me about
Cyrus

OHAPTEE VII.

GOLDSMITH.

The year 1765 was remarkable for tbe foundation of a great
benefit society for actors^ who, when grown old or otherwise
unable to pursue their profession, might reckon on an honourable
means of support, which they had purchased, as it were, by con-
tributions made in the more flourishing times. Mrs Hamilton,
a well-known actress, had fallen into a piteous state, and had
become literally destitute in the prime of life, and this discovery
seemed to have caused universal alarm in the profession Mr.
Thomas Hull, a worthy actor and an officer of Oovent Gaiden,
seized the opportunity to propose a scheme, the chief points of
which were that it should be confined to the Oovent Garden
players, that sixpence a week should be contributed, subscrip-
tions invited, and an annual benefit secured. In this way a
fund was gathered. When Mr Garrick returned from abroad
and found this step had been taken without consulting him, he
was exceedingly angry and much mortified, as it seemed a
slight to one who was admitted to be the head of his
profession.

This institution (said Mathews, in a pleasant speech at
one of the dinners) had been founded in the year 1765, and
there had been at various times since a dispute as to who was

GOLDSMITH

249

tlie founder/^ Some said tliat Mattocks was fclie founder,
others that it was Mr Hull There had been a kind of what
he (Mr Mathews) would term an amiable dispute amongst the
relatives and admirers of Messrs Hull, Mattocks, and the
celebrated Garrick, with whom the idea of a theatrical fund
originated The Oovent Gaiden institution ceitainly was
founded by the two former Each claimed the merit of the
suggestion , and on application foi an Act of Parliament they
ran a race for the prize — it was nearly a dead heat , but
Gariick won by gaining the Act of Parliament before Oovent
Gaiden However, from that year up to the year 1815 the
society had been supported by the actors, occasionally assisted by
other contributors. Fawcett (he added) established the dinners.

Being mollified, however, Garrick consented to set on foot
a similar institution for his own theatre, which was done in
1766 He entered into the scheme with extraoidinaiy ardour,
gave it an annual benefit, performed for it himself, and, as
it was calculated, added to its funds by his own hearty exertions
no less a sum than 4500Z — an instance of co-opeiation truly
magnificent In May, 1776, when both funds obtained an
Act of Parliament, he defiayed the expenses of that for Drury
Lane. It was obvious that these two institutions were based
on the principle that every actoi, to gam its advantages,
must be connected for a long term of years with the lespective
theatres, and this again implied in the latter a regular
perseverance and prosperity. This, unfortunately, could not
be guaranteed With the beginning of the century began
the growth of the minor theatres , and actors, instead of rising
from the ranks in a sort of meritorious progression, began to
fall away in search of higher salaries In this way the
supporters became scattered, though the funds were slowly
accumulating. It was accordingly felt that the basis should
be widened, the whole remodelled, and the local restriction
abolished Accordingly, in 1838, the General Theatrical Fund
(afterwards '^RoyaP^) was established by a union of the two

250 A NEW HISTOEY OE TDHE ENGLISH STAGE,

old ones^ Sheridan Knowles and Elton taking nn important
part in the transaction By the new rules the benefits were
extended to singers and dancers and prompters, who had
practised five years, seven years’ subscriptions weie necessary
before receiving the benefit A subscriber of twenty-one,
who paid about 4^, 85 ., or 12 s, should become entitled to
40Zj 80Z, or 120 Z annuities, according to the class, up to the
age of fifty-three and upwards, when the payments of 2 Z. 7s 5d ,
4Z 14s 10(i, and 71 2s. Sd respectively were necessary to
secuie the same annuities. If, however, the annuitants were
in receipt, from other sources, of means from 901 to 1407.
a year, they were not entitled to receive anything from the
fund In 1853, a charter of incorporation was obtained
In 1791, the stock of the fund stood at 6050Z , the leceipts
at Drury Lane were 695? 6 s 2^(7, and the expenditure
585? 14s 3(7 In 1881, at the dinner, when Mr Irving took
the chair, the stock was 1330?. and the expenditure was 1741?.
the receipts being supplemented by dmneis and donations I
possess an almost complete senes of the reports from the very
first year, with the notes of the secretaries for toasts and
suggestions to the Duke of York. I find the following among
these papers The following memorandums as to theatrical
dinners weie received from the secretaiies of each fund named,
taken from then books

The fi'ist Covent Garden Theatrical Fund Dinner took place
at Freemasons^ Hall, January 80th, 1816. The Duke of York
took the chair, supported by the Dukes of Sussex and Kent, etc.

The last dinner of the Oovent Garden Theatrical Fund
took place on May 26th, 1847, the Duke ot Cambridge in
the chan. The fiist tvnie ladies sang at 0 G T, F dinners
was in 1824 or 1825, when Miss Baton, Miss Stephens, and
Miss Love sang

(Signed) Deinkwatee Meadows, Secietary of
0. G T. Fund

May 17th, 1853.

To John Bovey.

GOLDSMITH

251

The Drury Laue Theatrical Fund^ founded by the late
Dayid Gairick^ m the year 1766, for the relief and support of
indigent and decayed members of Her Ma]esty^s Company
of Comedians, subsciibers to the same, their widows and
children Incorporated by Act of Parliament, 1775 John
Peitt Haeley, Esq , Master and Treasurer , William Bennett,
Secretaiy

To your first question of How many dinners the Drury
Lane Theatrical Fund has had I beg to say that the fi^st
took place on March 11th, 1818, at the London Tavern, the
Duke of York in the chair The last dinner took place on the
28th May, 1851, at the Freemasons^ Hall The first time
a lady ever sang at a Theatrical Fund dinner was at Drury
Lane T F in 1820 and 1821, and that lady was your sister.
Miss Povey, who sang Echo song from ^ Comus ^

AH ACT

Foi the better securing a Fund, belonging to ce7 tain persons of
the Theatre Boyal, in Dniiy Lane, applicable to chaiitable
uses, and fo) other pm poses hei ein mentioned

Whereas, m or about the year One thousand seven hundred
and sixty-six, a contribution was begun at the Theatre Royal
in Drury Lane, towards the charitable purpose of establishing
a fund for the support of such performers belonging to the
said theatre, as through age, infirmity, or accident should be
obliged to retire from the stage, the managers of which
charity have since extended the same to the occasional relief
of performers m case of sickness, and also to the relief
and support of the widows and children of deceased performers
belonging to the said theatre And whereas, by the profits
arising from several plays, acted for the benefit of the said
charity, and the voluntary contributions of the performers
belonging to the said company, and other persons, a fund to
the amount of four thousand pounds, or thereabouts, is now m
the hands of certain trustees applicable to the purposes aiore-
said To THE END THEREEORB, that the moiiey contributed as
aforesaid, or which may hereafter be contributed, towards
increasing the said fund, may be applied to the purposes

s 2

252 A KEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

aforesaid^ and to prevent, as far as may be, any misapplication
or embezzlement tbeieof, —

Ma.t it please your Majesty,

That it may be enacted, and be it enacted, by the King’s
most excellent Majesty, by and with the advice and consent of
the Lords Spiritual and Temporal and Commons, in this piesent
Parliament assembled, and by authority of the same, that,
from and after the passing of this Act, all and every the
subscribers to the said fund for the time being, during such
time as he, she, and they respectively shall pay to the same,
shall be, and are hereby declared to be, one body coiporate
and politic, in deed and in name, and shall be called by the
name of ^^The Society established for the Eehef of Indigent
Persons belonging to His Ma]esty^s Company of Comedians
of the Theatie Eoyal in Drury Lane , ’’ and by the same name
they shall have perpetual succession and a common seal , and
that they and their successors, by the same name, may sue
and be sued, implead and be impleaded, answer and be
answered unto, in all or any court or courts of lecoid, and
places of judicature within this kingdom of Gieat Biitain,
and that they, and their successors, by the name aforesaid,
shall be able and capable m law, to have, hold, receive, enjoy,
possess, and retain, for the puiposes aforesaid, all and every
such sum and sums of money as have been paid, given,
devised, or bequeathed, or shall at any time or times hereafter
be paid, given, devised or bequeathed, to and for the ends and
purposes herein before mentioned And that they, and their
successors, by the name afoiesaid, shall and may, at any time
hereafter, without licence in mortmain, purchase, take, or
receive, hold, and enjoy, any lands, tenements, or heredita-
ments, not exceeding the yearly value of five hundred pounds
And be it eurther enacted, that, from and after the passing
of this Act, Thomas King, John Packer, John Moody, James
Aickin, James William Dodd, Eobert Baddeley, Fiancis
Waldron, Eichard Hurst, William Brereton, James Wrighton,
William Parsons, John Palmer, and William Davis, shall be,
and they are hereby appointed, directors for managing the
said fund, until the fifth day of April, which shall be in the
year of our Lord One thousand seven hundred and seventy-

GOLDSMITH

253

seven And that the said directors and their successors^ to he
elected in manner hereinafter mentioned, or the ma]ority of
such directors for the time being, shall have full power and
authority, from time to time, to dispose of the said common
seal, and to alter or make new the same, and to direct the use
and application thereof , and to make, ordain, and constitute
such and so many bye-laws, constitutions, oi ders, and regula-
tions as to them, or the major part of them, shall seem
necessary and convenient for the appropriation of the said
fund, or touching, or in any wise concerning, the affairs and
business of the said corporation And the same bye-laws,
constitutions, orders, and regulations so made to put in use
and enforce accordingly, and at their will and pleasure to
revoke, change, and alter the same or any of them, which
said bye-laws, constitutions, orders and regulations so as
afoiesaid made shall be duly kept and observed by the
corporation, and every member thereof, provided the same be
reasonable, and not contrary or repugnant to the statutes,
customs, or laws of this kingdom, or the true intent and mean-
ing of this Act And be it further enacted, that the said
directors may, and are hereby empowered to appoint a
treasurer or treasurers, and such other officeis as they shall
think necessary for the purposes of this Act , and shall and
are heieby required to take such security from then treasurer
or treasureis as a majority of the said directors shall think
proper And be it further enacted, that such subscribers to
the said fund, as may hereafter be entitled to receive any
benefit therefiom, shall meet together, at some convenient
place in or near the said theatre, on the 25th day of March,
which shall be in the year of our Lord One thousand seven
hundred and seventy-seven, or within ten days after, for elect-
ing directors for the year ensuing , and that previous to such
election the names of all the directors for the time being shall
be wiitten on distinct pieces of paper, being all of an equal
size, and rolled up in the same manner, as near as may be,
and shall be put in a box, or in some other convenient
receptacle, and shall be shaken together, after which some
person not interested in such election shall draw out the said
names one by one until the number remaining in the said box
or receptacle shall be reduced to six, and the six persons

2^4 A NEW HISTOBT OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

whose names shall so remain shall be six o£ the directors foi
the ensuing year, after which the said subscribers present
shall proceed to elect seven other persons from among them-
selves (either such as were or were not diiectors foi the
preceding year), and the seven persons so elected, together
with the SIX persons whose names remained undrawn, as
aforesaid, shall be the directors for putting this Act m execu-
tion for the year next ensuing And the said subscribers
shall also meet together on the 25th day of March, or
within ten days after, in ewery succeeding year, and elect
directors, in manner before mentioned, for the year then
next ensuing And in case any one, or more, of the said
directors hereby appointed, or to be elected in manner afore-
said, shall die, or lefuse to act in the execution of this Act,
the said subscnbeis shall and may meet together at some
convenient place in or near the said theatie, and elect a
director or directors in the room and stead of the dnector
or directors so dying or refusing to act as aforesaid And
every director so to be elected, in any or either of the cases
aforesaid, shall have the said powers and authorities, for the
puiposes of carrying this Act into execution, as the directois
herein and hereby nominated and appointed are invested with
Peovided always and be it euethbb enacted, that notice of
eveiy such election shall be afldxed in writing m some con-
spicuous part of the said theatre, for three days at the least,
immediately pi eceding such election, and that all elections
shall be decided by a majority of votes , and that every sub-
sciiber to the said fund shall have a right to vote in every
such election Peovided also, that at every annual election
of directors for the purposes of this Act, a majority of the
directors for the ensuing year shall consist of persons belong-
ing to or employed at the same theatre And be it euethee
ENACTED, that this Act shall be adjudged, deemed, and taken to
be a public Act, and shall be judiicially taken notice of by all
judges, justices, and other persons whomsoever, without
specially pleading the same

One of the most interesting events of this period was
the production of the amiable Dr, Goldsmith^s fiist comedy of

goldsmith

255

The Good-natured Man It is wonderful and touching to
see what difficulties weie thrown in the way of this clever
beings and how carelessly and contemptuously managers and
actors weie induced to carry out the arrangement they had
made with him, and which they distrusted It was curious that
two of his countrymen — Kelly and Bickers taff — whose works
are almost forgotten, should have stood in his way Thefoimer
had brought out a play called False Delicacy/^ one of those
far-fetched pieces which were later ridiculed as German, in
which people refuse those they love and accept those they
dislike, out of delicacy.^^ Three thousand copies of the play
were sold on the day of publication, while it was translated
into several foreign languages with much success

Everything (says Dibdin) was at that time sentiment If a
man was to be hanged, or married, out came a sentiment If a
rogue triumphed, or was tossed in a blanket, what an oppor
tumtyfor a sentiment’ If the butler was diunk, oi the
chambermaid impertinent, listen to a sentiment ’ False
Delicacy had almost all these requisites , and, that the
audience might have enough of their darling sentiments after
they had been delighted with a plentiful number of them in the
course of the action, the moment the catastrophe finished,
fo'iwa'id came every individual actoi and actress, and suspended
the fall of the curtain with a sentiment ^ *

Bickerstaff, too, was pressing for the production of his
opera, Lionel and Clarissa,^^ and grumbling at its being
postponed for Dr Goldsmiths piece.

First, the doctor had given his play to Garrick, who

Goldsmith did not witness the complete condemnation of a play of Kelly* s,
which occurred later It was as complete as his success had been It may foe
added heie,as an illustration of theatucal manners, that one night, when Foote
had produced a sanguinary tragedy, in which the Bariys were peiforming.
Goldsmith, who was in the pit, af tei listening impatiently, got up and went out,

exclaiming in a loud voice, “ Biownrigg, by > ” — alluding to the well known

murderess It will be seen later that Foote did the same thing when his theatre
had changed hands

256 A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

entered on its consideration with an air of gracious pationage,
which the poet resented The next step was to ask for a small
advance, and the sensitive poet noticed that he then presumed
on this to propose alterations He objected paiticularly to
Lofty, as detracting from the mam interest Other objections
followed, which were secretly and at last openly resented This
was the course Garrick pursued with every piece he accepted,
and it IS, it may be said plainly, the only true and proper
course The manager should be joined, more or less, in this
sort of authorship He repiesents his actors and his theatre —
important interests — and the play suggests to him what the
author cannot know, advantages or disadvantages In the
Gariick letters, it is truly instructive to follow the couise of a
piece under this system of composition and how it grew slowly,
and was altered and shaped and experimented on. Half the
failures of our day may be asciibed to this cause, Mr Dibdm
heard Goldsmith give an account of his treatment

In my hearing he said that Gariick wanted to foist in so
much stuff of his own that he grew tired of Ins objections and
would not leave the play with him, which foisting in, perhaps,
would have done the effect of the play no injury, though
Goldsmith was twenty times a bettei wnter than Garrick , but
this was not the case Goldsmith had offended Gariick, for a
forced smile with him was always a symptom of anger, and
therefore he would not take the pains to whistle to him He
had a fair excuse for getting rid of the play, which both his
resentment to Goldsmith and his fiiendship to Kelly, who,
together with sentimental comedy was cut up by it, had
predetermined him not to accept upon any account.

After the opposition to Garrick had been opened at Oovent
Garden, and his friend Oolman had become a manager, the poet
saw there was a chance of relief, and Oolman^ s first act was
to receive the comedy of his friend

At the rehearsals the actors found fault with their parts.

GOLDSMITH.

257

Powellj wlio did Honeywoodj complained there was acting to
tiy out his abilities Oolman began to think the humour
dangerously bioad or low/^ There weie what is called ^^long
faceSj^^ but it was determined to go through with it, Johnson
attended the rehearsals and furnished a prologue

The appointed night came round, January 27fch, 1768»
Bensley, the admired of Charles Lamb, delivered the piologue
in solemn and lugubrious tones But it was a gloomy and.
uneffective composition The piece hovered m the balance for
a time, for the bailiffs were accounted ^^low,^^ but Shuter^s
great scene of discovering the blowing-up conspiracy put the
house in thorough good-humour. It will be curious to read
one of the more elaborate critiques of the day, and it will be
noted how they patronised him

Mr Oolman, the acting manager, has been indefatigable in
promoting the entertainment of the town, and a new comedy,
called ^^The Good-natured Man,^^ written by Dr Goldsmith,
the celebrated author of ^^The Travellei,^^ has been bi ought
out since our last, but we aie sorry to say the success of this
piece no way answered the very warm expectations which were
entertained of its merits by the world, eveiybody naturally
looked for an extraordinary production from the masterly hand
which enriched the republic of letters with The Prospect of
Society , yet it is too melancholy a truth, that everybody
who cherished this sanguine opinion was unhappily dis-
appointed when it made its appearance upon the stage

It must, however, be confessed, for the honour of Dr Gold-
smith, that he seems to have erred much less through a want
of real genius for the stage than through an accountable
partiality for the humour of Molidie and other celebrated
writers of the last century In his preface he says When I
undertook to write a comedy, I confess I was strongly pre-
possessed m favour of the poets of the last age, and strove to
imitate them The term ‘ genteel comedy^ was then unknown
amongst us, and little moie was desired by an audience than
nature and humour, in whatever walks of life they were most
conspicuous. The author of the following scenes never

258 A l^EW HISTOET OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

imagined tliat more would be expected of him, and thorefure
to delineate character has been his principal aim, Tho«^e
who know anything of composition are sensible, that in
pursuing humour it will sometimes lead us into the recesses of
the mean, I was even tempted to look for it m the master of
a spungmg-house But m deference to the public taste, grown
of late, peihaps, too delicate, the scene of the bailiffs (a scene
which gave gieat offence the fiist mght) was retrenched in the
representation — ^in deference also to the judgment of a few
friends, who think in a particular way the scene is here restored.
The author submits it to the reader in his closet, and hopes
that too much refinement will not banish humour and character
from ours, as it has already done from the French theatre
Indeed, the French comedy is now become so very elevated and
sentimental, that it has not only banished humour and Moliere
from the stage, but it has banished spectators too

Dr Goldsmith has talents, he has extraordinary talents, and
had he been less attached to the now almost exploded dramatic
writers of the last century, he would doubtless have pio-
duced a work no less honourable to himself than advantageous
to his country , but his passion for humour has been too strong
for his good sense, and he has carried his admiration of it to
such an extravagance as scarcely to have a ciicumstance in his
piece which can lay any unquestionable claim to the title of
oiigmality The character of Croakei, for instance, and all
the incidents relative to Leontine and Olivia, he has borrowed
from Le Grondeui , the Good-natured Man he has taken
from ^^L^Ami tout le Monde, Lofty, and everything that
relates to him, from Important de la Oour His bailiffs
aie to be found, and better drawn, in Eacine^s Les Plaideurs,^^
the scene where the Good-natured Man espouses the different
opinions of Mi and Mrs Croaker is the only thing in Molieie^s
L^Avare which Fielding has not translated , and the scene
where he solicits Miss Eichland in favoui of his fiiend Lofty,
will be found in '^Le Dissipateur,^^ by Dr Touche

Having thus considered ^^The Good-natured Man^^ with
more attention than we should perhaps have shown to a writer
ot less reputation than Dr Goldsmith, we shall now make an
observation or two upon the prologue, which is wiitten by las
very learned friend Dr Johnson, as it has been mentioned

GOLDSMITK

259

witli uncommon admiration by tbe friends of its 3ustly
celebrated author As for the good sense of his little com-
position, we beg leaye to submit it to the consideration of
opr readers

Pressed by the load of life^ the weary mind
Surveys the general toil of human kind.

With cool submission joins the labouring tram,

And social sorrow loses half its pain
Onr anxious bard, without complaint, may share
This bustling season^s epidemic caie
Like Csesai^s Pilot, dignified by fate,

Tossed in one common storm with all the great ;
Distressed alike, the statesman and the wit.

When one a borough courts, and one the pit.

The busy candidates for power and fame
Have hopes, and fears, and wishes, just the same.
Disabled both to combat or to fly.

Must hear all taunts and hear without leply
UncheckM on both, loud rabbles vent their lage
As mongrels bay the lion in a cage
TF offended burgess hoaids his angiy tale
For that blest year when all that vote may rail,

Their schemes of spito the poePs foes dismiss
Till that glad night when all that hate may hiss
This day the powder’d curls and golden coat.

Says swelling Crispin, beg^d a cobler^s vote
This night, our wit, the peit apprentice cries.

Lies at my feet , I hiss him and he dies

The great, ^tis tiue, can charm th^ electing tribe.

The bard may supplicate, but cannot bribe
Yet judged by those whose voices ne^er were sold.

He feels no want of ill-persuadmg gold ,

But confident of praise, if praise be due,

Tiusts without fear, to merit and to you

Without remarking paiticularly on the versification of the
foregoing prologue, which, to say the tiuth, is not uncommonly
excellent, we must entieat the reader to tell us the meaning
of it In one place, Dr Johnson, with a politeness of a very

260 A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

extraordinary nature, says^ that on the poet as well as on the
statesman

Loud rabbles (that iSj the audience) vent their rage

As mongrels bay the lion in a cage,

In another place says the prologue writer

This night, our wit, the pert apprentice cries,

Lies at my feet , I hiss him and he dies

And in a third place we are told,

The great, ^tis true, can charm th^ electing tribe ,

The bard may supplicate, but cannot bribe

From these passages an unreflecting reader would be apt to
think the poor poet in a very miserable situation, and he
might also be apt to imagine the ^^loud rabble, ^^the pert
apprentice, and acknowledged poveity, very formidable
enemies for an author to encounter But if we only go on a little
farther, we shall find our good-natur’d apprehension is wholly
without foundation, for there neither is a loud rabble nor a
pert apprentice; on the contrary, the audience are the best-
natured people in the world , and the happy bard, so far from
wanting money to biibe with, is to be

Judged by those whose voices ne’er were sold.

He feels no want of ill-persuading gold.

But confident of praise, if praise be due,

Trusts without fear, to merit and to you.

For the credit of Dr Samuel Johnson, author of ^^The
Rambler,^^ we hope that his name is only used at the head of
the prologue to assist the sale of the book, and yet we fear
this delicious morsel is actually his writing, because, had it
been happily otherwise, his good sense would have led him to
disown it long since by a public advertisement

Passing on to the year 1773, we find it was celebrated as
that of the production of the most successful of Groldsmith^s
two plays, She Stoops to Conquer — that spirited and ever
popular play, which actors delight in performing To the

GOLDSMITH

261

author^ tLen in sore difi&cultiesj iti was a source of nervous
excitement^ so mncli depending on it, as, indeed, kis piteous
letter to tlie manager, George Colman, shows

Dear Sir^

I entreat you will relieve me from that state of
suspense m which I have been kept for a long time What-
ever ob3ections you have made, or shall make, to my play, I
will endeavour to remove, and not argue about them. To bring
in any new judges of its merits or faults I can never submit to.
Upon a former occasion, when my other play was before
Mr Garrick, he offered to bring me before Mr Whitehead^s
tribunal, but I refused the proposal with indignation , I hope
I shall not experience as hard a treatment from you as from
him I have, as you know, a large sum of money to make up
shortly, by accepting my play I can readily satisfy my creditor
that way , at any rate, I must look about to some certainty to
be prepaied For God^s sake take the play, and let us make
the best of it, and let me have the same measure at least
which you have given as bad plays as mine.

I am, your Friend and Servant,

Oliver Golbsmith

It was proposed by Sir Joshua Beynolds to call it ^^The
Beliefs Stratagem, a name afterwards adopted by Mrs.
Cowley. Goldsmith and his friends were indeed ^^in labour
up to the last moment for a name, and the one it bears was
selected in great haste. At a dinner given on the day of the
performance he could not swallow a mouthful. He had not
courage to attend the performance, but wandered about in the
park with strange misgivings Coming behind the scenes he
thought he heard something hke disapprobation, and asked
the manager nervously what it was Pshaw, doctor ^ said
the latter, roughly but wittily, ^^don^t be frightened at a squib,
when for the last two hours we have been sitting on a barrel
of gunpowder.^^ It was perfectly successful, and with his

262 A NEW HISTOET OF THE ENOLISH STAGE

countryman Shendan^s plays, form tlie few genuine stock-
pieces of tlie stage *

Yet with his old ground of complaint and sense of in 3 ury
we find the poet, when he had a new play ready, putting it into
the hands of Mr Gairick Oolman had found serious objec-
tions to it, and the author had taken it away from him and
given it to the other manager Garrick seems also to have
found objections, and the poor, sensitive, but uncertam Gold-
smith again reclaimed it and restored it to Oolman

He wrote on February 6th, 1778 •

Dear Sir,

I ask you many pardons for the trouble I gave you of
yesterday Upon more mature deliberation, and the advice of
a sensible fiiend, I began to think it indelicate in me to throw
upon you the odium of confirming Mr Colman^s sentence I
therefore request you will send my play by my servant back ,
for having been assured of having it acted at the other house,
though I confess yours in every respect more to my wish, yet
it would be folly in me to forego an advantage which lies in
my power of appealing from Mr Colman^s opinion to the
judgment of the town I entreat, if not too late, you will
keep this affair a secret for some time

It must be confessed there is soundness in Garrick’s judg-
ment on his first piece The play has never really taken
There have been several revivals in our time, with admirable
actors, and the feeling left was that it did not go home to the
hearts of the audience, to whom it was novel , that there was
a lack of story to interest, and the characters do not belong to
such a story as this is The bailiffs always seem out of
key,^^ to belong to broad faice, and to Eave got in by mistake.

* It will be recollected that tlie critics charged Goldsmith with borrowing
his characters in “ The Good-natured Man In his other play there can bo
httle doubt, on comparison, that Tony and his mother are taken fiom the
Widow Blackacre and her son, in ** The Plain Dealer The name of Lofty,
in ** The Good-natured Man, is found, I thank, in on© of Fielding’s plays

GOLDSMITH

263

Cl oaker is o£ course delightful , but Lofty seems forced As
an acting play it does not compare with She Stoops to
Conquer

It seems difficult at this time to realise the significance of
the prologue and epilogue^ and the vast importance attached
to such accessoiies Though such things were often supplied
by authors as capable as the writers of the pieces — such as
Johnson^ Qariick^ etc — it may be said that its leal inteiest
was in the opportunity it offered the actor of exhibiting himself
in the most familiar mood to his friends and the public This
was the real object of the prologue, the reciter was before
the curtain^ among the audience^ as it were, or perhaps on a
sort of debateable ground — the No-man*s land — on which the
speaker was neither player nor yet a professional Thus the
public might enjoy a sort of familiar converse with their
favouiite, while^ on his side, he might claim the privilege of
his theatrical dignity Taken m its true and sober bearing,
theie was some interest in a really fine piologue deliveied
gracefully it seemed to strike the key of the story that was
to follow and excite a soit of anticipation. With a good
speaker it was an interesting perfoimance, quite different from
the detached lecitations we have on the modern stage

The epilogue was a much more free-and-easy performance :
there the gay actress gave way to boisterous spirits and fun.
All sorts of farcical devices were adopted — running m as if
pursued , or two ladies wrangling. It was thus that Goldsmith
meant to conclude his comedy :

Enter Mrs Bulkley, who curtsies very low as she is beginning
to speak Then enters Miss Oatley, who stands full before
her

Mrs B. Hold, ma^am * your pardon. What^s your business
here ^

Miss 0 The epilogue

If? s, jB. The epilogue ?

264 A NEW HTSTOitY OE THE ENaLISH STAGE

M^ss G Yes , tlie epilogue, my dear
Mrs B Sui’e, you mistake, ma^am, Tlie epilogue * I
kring it

Miss 0 Excuse me, ma^am , the author bid me sing it
{Begins) Te beaux and belles that form this splendid nog.
Suspend your conversation while I sing

On another occasion Mr Woodward appeared, dressed in
black, and holding a handkerchief to his eyes .

Excuse me, sirs, I pray , I can’t yet speak ,

Tm crying now, and have been all the week

In short, it would take long to give specimens of this free-
and-easy style Yet it was considered of great importance
to have a suitable prologue by an eminent hand was essential
The custom continued in vogue till so lately as thirty or forty
years ago, one of the last contributions being no less than a
piece by the late Mr Dickens, who furnished one for
Mr Westland Marston^s ^^Patrician's Daughter

In 1773, when Oolman was in full control of the Hay-
market, that extraordinary chaiacter Macklm proposed to
him a fresh engagement, and the other, who was either not
ill-natured, or found it profitable, heartily agreed. It is
significant of the attractions of this veteran that he had
received no less a sum than 201 a mght with a benefit,
and which enormous salary had been profitable to the house.
It IS astonishing, however, that Colman, who knew the man,
would expose himself afresh to the risk of the contention and
confusion he was certain to bring with him Almost at the
opening there was a dispute about characters and the engage-
ment of Smith, on which he drew up statements,^^ for which
he had an unlucky Micawberlike facility for composing. But
by this time he had accumulated a vast amount of enmity, and
a confederacy seems to have been formed to put him down.
There were many green-room whispers abroad as to something

GOLDSMITH

265

impending. ^^Macbetli^^ was tlie play cbosen, and lie had
taken special pains with the business and costumes He
had been struck with the absurdity of the English general
officer’s dress^ and determined to reform it altogether But
his figure — cumbrous and ill-shapcd — and his age (he was then
seventy-three) were against him On his entrance the audience
were inclined to laugh when they saw a clumsy old man, who
looked more like a Scotch piper than a general and prince of
the blood, stumping down the stage at the head of a supposed
conquering army, ^ commanding a halt upon the heath ^
There was some opposition, and on one of the following per-
formances he made a speech, in which he accused Sparks and
Eeddish, two of the Drury Lane corps, of hissing him This
was pointed, of course, at Garrick, who, it was charged, was
jealous of being obtruded upon in those parts in which he
had so long stood without a competitor, and he said that
Eeddish (a performer of eminence then at Drury Lane Theatre)
actually refused paying a fine imposed on him for non-
attendance of his duty by the deputy manager, ^ because he
was with Mr Garrick on this business ^

The two actors published affidavits declaring they had never
done so , but Macklin again Came forward with ‘'^an MS in his
hand” and reiterated his charge, all which, it may be
imagined, added to the excitement, and brought crowds.
His faction was strong, and supported him When he came
forward as Shylock (his best character) his enemies rallied,
and a fearful not took place, which actually drove him from
the theatre. What followed is dramatic enough, and shows
Macklin to have been a man of power It would seem that
some persons had actually gone round the taverns recruiting
bands of tailors and others by giving them money, some of
these persons were of respectable station, who might have been
expected to have been above such behaviour.

VOL. II T

266 A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

Leigh, the tailor, applied to some people of his own
trade, to solicit their assistance, representing to them
the purpose for which he wanted that assistance, telling
them that a certain old villain of the name of Macklin,
of whom they knew nothing, and of whom he knew as
little, had given somebody, whom he did not know, some
affront, and, for the purpose of revenging that some-
body, they weie desired to go to this playhouse This
Mr Leigh succeeded very well in his first efforts to collect a
party, for this purpose he deputed a man of the name of
Archer to act the part of lieutenant-general, and he is sent to
some alehouse — The Dog, I think — to head a party there
Another man, with another name, in a similar office, was sent
to the Phoenix alehouse to collect another party there At
these alehouses parties were collected, forty or fifty at one, and
an equal number at another, such of the men as could read
weie given a paper to read, such of them that had eyes, and
could see, were to take notice of a signal which was to be
exhibited, such as had no eyes to see, and could only hear,
were told that a whistle would be given, which they weie to
listen for The commandeis having given these oiders among
the very spirited corps of tailors, they were told that, besides all
this comfortable preparation, they should each of them have a
shilling apiece for the night's work, and after the work should
be completed, and this old unknown villain of the name of
Macklin should be diiven to hell, these men should go to the
Bedford Arms and have a supper.

On the appearance of Shylock a terrific uproar set in, and
Oolman was called for, and when the old actor advanced, in
opposition to the general sense of the audience, on being
desired to go off he peremptorily refused, and in the most
insolent manner advanced to the orchestra and stamped with
his feet, and continued on the stage.

What followed is thus described by the old actor himself
in the court

Before the curtain was drawn up he heard a great accla-
mation among the audience , he saw Aldus come out of the
front box into the pit, and he was receiwed with various kinds

GOLDSMITH

267

of applause When the curtain drew up, or rather before,
there was a chorus of ^^No play, no play, off, off The
actors were qaite silent. It was in vain for them to attempt
to speak, but they made a kind of sham effort or address used
upon those occasions, being unwilling to leave the stage till
they were forced , then the tumult ran veiy high Mr. Oolman
said to him, behind the scenes, Go on He expostulated
with him What signifies (says Macklin) my going on with
this noise, I cannot be heard, but if you insist upon it I
will^^ The moment he appeared, if the uproar could be
heightened, it was, and there were a great many apples thrown
upon the stage, and, as he knew James, he stooped down to
him, and said Sir, will you hear me ^ Now what does
James do upon this ^ Why, upon that application, he, with
great rage, says, Off, off, off And he and his companions
flourished their sticks at him, and pointed at him, and reached
at him over the orchestra, for he stooped down over as far as
he could, and if he had not made his retreat he would have
been struck by him He says ^^He desiied to know of
James what they wanted ? He kneeled down to get nearer,
and said, I cannot distinguish well what you say, but put it
on papei and I will obey it, or give you an answer, or words
to that effect. Upon this, a gentleman, I think Chapman,
furnished him with a pencil and a card, when he wrote that
Macklin was to ask paidon. Upon readmg this card, Macklin
asked him upon what he founded his commands Off, off, down
on your knees He says, I insisted I would not down upon
my knees The people called out, ^ Macklin, Macklin, speak to
the house , ^ then, with his arms lifted up he applied to the
gallery, but still the noise continued , then he extended him-
self and addressed Leigh and Aldus, the outrage was then
quite in the extreme, and they wanted him to ask pardon,
and kept up the clamour still, ^ Off, off , ^ he applied to Miles,
who sat in the first or second row next the orchestra he
started up and menaced him with his stick, accompanied with
every mark of anger, and said, ^ Tou^re a villain, you're a
rascal, you^re a scoundrel, off, off, ’ then James called to him
in severe terms, ^ Get off, pull off your dress, your ShylocVs
dress ^ He says In order to conciliate these gentlemen
he went and pulled off his dress and put on his own clothes

263 A HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.

and tten returned^ thafc then the outrage was great indeed
In that condition he remained some time , but; being pelted
and hit with an apple m the face, which came from somebody
in the second row m the pit, who stooped after they threw it,
he took up the apple and showed it to the audience He says
he knew the person who threw it; that it was not one of the
defendants'^ Then Bensley and Woodward came on and
addiessed the audience; but what they said he could not tell
because of the noise Then another actor brought this black
board that had the inscription in large white characters, which
seems to be the sentence they had obtained ^^At the com-
mand of the publiC; Mr Maoklin is discharged from the
theatre This was what they were to obtain — ^not the
woman. This board, so exhibited; was turned to every
part of the house Then there was a murmur of applause ;
that was what they wanted; but there was a clamour for
Mr Oolman still Two or three gentlemen came from the
boxes and said; That the audience was in gieat ferment, and
that great damage would be done to the theatre if Mr Oolman
did not go on Upon which he went on and said, ^^That ever
since he and his fellow-propraetors had had the dominion in
that theatre they had made it their study to please the public
and obey their commands; as they would upon the present
occasion Hpon this there was a great applause; he then
put the question, ^^Is it; your pleasuie Mr Macklin should be
discharged ^ He, the witness; sayS; he heard a great many
ayes, and he thought some noes Then Mr Oolman said;

Mr Macklin is discharged

This was a really serious bloW; for the actor, as we have
seen, was in receipt of a large salary thus abruptly cut off
It was shown by the treasurer's account that he was to receive
400J. for the season, lOOZ for a new farce, with the produce of
a benefit; valued at 200? or 230?.

Lord Mansfield, who all through behaved like the consti-
tutional 3 udge he was, laid down the law of hissing in a
well-known passage, in which the law is clearly expounded for
the benefit of all future dissentients.

GOLDSMITH

269

Every man tTiat is at the playhouse has a right to express
his approbation or disapprobation instantaneously^ according
as he likes either the acting or piece ; that is a right due to the
theatre, an unalterable right — they must have that. The gist
of the crime here is coming by conspiracy to rum a particular
man — to hiss if they were ever so pleased — let him do ever so
well, they were to knock him down and hiss him off the stage
They did not come to approve or disapprove, as the sentiments
of their mind might be, but they came with a black design,
and that is the most ungenerous thing that can be. What a
terrible condition is an actor upon the stage in with an enemy
who makes part of the audience ^ It is ungenerous to take the
advantage , and what makes the black part of the case is, it
IS all done with a conspiracy to ruin him and if the Court
were to imprison and fine every one of them, Mr Macklin may
bring his action against them, and I am satisfied there is no
jury that would not give considerable damages

There was a disposition to make all amends to the in]ured,
and much debate followed as to what form the amende was to
take The large indemnity necessary alarmed those on trial,
who declared it would be their rum. On which the old veteran
mildly interfered.

Loud Mansfield I advise him to consent — Maclhn
My lord, I shall always be happy in obeying any advice that
comes from this court, but there is one circumstance that I
think demands an explanation Whatever falls from the
tongue of an advocate is easily transferred to the report, and
the ciedulity of the public. A gentleman has thrown out that
I want revenge My lord, I have no such idea I never had
If this matter had been submitted to me, they would have
found me a far different kind of man — not a man of revenge
In every stage of this business, my lord, from the first to the
last, I have felt a resentment, but I have always felt a compas-
sion, even for the people I was prosecuting I have only my
expenses m view Besides, my daughter has suffeied to the
amount of 2501 I have now proposals from Scotland, I have
proposals from Ireland, I could get money here. And, my

270 A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.

lord, I have something further to say this man hefore your
lordship, this taylor, within these few days, has dared to tell
me, before many witnesses, responsible tradesmen, m Oovent
Garden, with an insolence unbecoming his situation or cha-
racter Ah, ah, ah * you will send me to gaol then ; it may
be against the law to hiss, but it is not against the law to
laugh, for, depend upon it, when you play tragedy, you will have
a very merry audience — ah, ah, ah ’ I assure your lordship^
that this man, though he is but a taylor, has a very sharp
tongue, and a very quick mind My lord, were I to utter his
hon mots upon me and my circumstances, you would laugh
heartily indeed , but of him I shall say no more My lord, I
have gentlemen in court to prove that I laid a plan of general
accommodation, and I will reveal it now

Mr. Macklm here addressed himself to the defendants

But how is this compensation to be made ? What was the
mode I suggested ^ It is this

Let them take lOOZ worth of tickets for Miss Macklm^s
benefit She has lost 250Z Let them take lOOZ worth of tickets
for Mr Macklm, and let them take lOOZ worth of tickets,
upon some night that he plays, as a kind of compensation to
the managers This was of no advantage to me I can fill my
house without it ; but I meant to give them the popularity of
doing a justice to the man they had injured, and of convincing
the public that they would never do the like again, and that
they were in amity, and not in enmity, with me My lord, I
have nothing more to say

Lord Mansfield Then I think you have done yourself great
credit and great honour by what you have now said, and I
think your conduct is wise, too, and I think it will support
you with the public against any man that shall attack you.
Mr Macklm, you have done yourself great credit by it, and
the public, I am satisfied, especially in this country, love
generosity Ton will do more good by this, m the eyes of the
public, than if you had received all the money that you had a
right to receive I think you have acted handsomely, honestly,
honourably, and done yourself great service by it I think it
IS a most generous conduct. Mr Blake, you will be able to
settle it

Mr, MacJchn, If Messrs. Clarke, Aldus, and James will

GOLDSMITH

271

meet me — I will not meet tlie taylor, for it is impossible to
confine bis tongue

Lord Mansfield Mr Macklm, see whether I cannot make
peace between you Now^ suppose he undertakes to be bound
by a rule of court to stand committed if he ever so much as,
by look or word, puts you in a passion The proposal, then, is
to pay him his costs, and to take 300Z worth of tickets in the
way that he has mentioned Let it be so. Mr Macklm, the
house will receive so much benefit from it, perhaps they will
pay you the ai rears

M't MacLhn My lord, I never did quarrel with a manager
for money yet . I never made a bargain with a man , whatever
they offer me, I take

Lord Mansfield You have met with great applause to-day.
You never acted better

In 1778, the Covent Garden management determined to
revive ^^The Beggar^s Opera,^^ to the consternation of the
magistrates at Bow Street It is curious to think that these
worthies should have believed that this play gave encourage-
ment to the thieves and malefactors, and addressed an appeal to
the managers They urged that, when it was played some time
ago, ^^it most undoubtedly increased the number of thieves,
and that the managers of Drury Lane had obligingly returned
for answer, that for that night it was too late to stop it, but
that for the future they would not play it, if the other house
did not Under these circumstances, from a sense of duty and
the principles of humanity, the magistiates make the same
request to Mr. Cohn an and the rest of the managers of His
Ma]esty^s Theatre Eoyal, Oovent Garden, the same opera
being advertised to be played before this night

Oolman, however, met them in quite a suitable spirit,

Mr Oolman presents his best respects to the magistrates,
with whose note he has been 3 ust honoured He has not yet
had an opportunity of submitting it to the other managers,
but, for his own part, cannot help differing in opinion with

272 A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.

tte magistrates, tliiiiking that the theatre is one of the ve^y
few houses m the neighhomhood that does not contribute to
increase the number of thieves

This suggests the ready device of one who demurely pro-
posed to submit all ob]ections to the Archbishop of Canterbury^
offering to remove what he objected to , on which the lively
prelate declined, he good-naturedly saying to his friends that
ho had no notion of having the piece published ^^with the
approbation of the Archbishop of Canterbury

Another odd proceeding which marked the same year is
worth mentioning, as showing the conscientious anxiety of the
good old school of actors not to be thought failing in their duty
Reddish, a useful performer, was announced in the part of
Alonzo, but through some absence of mind or misappiehension,
very natural m those days when the play was changed every
night, did not go to the theatie He recalled it when too late,
went, in great agitation, to Bow Street, and made the following
affidavit before Sir Sampson Wright

Samuel Reddish, of Drury Lane Theatre, maketli oath,
and declares, that the only reason of his not being at the
theatre this night, to perform his pait in the tragedy of
^^Alonzo,^^ was entirely owing to his thinking it was an oiatoiio
night, and, that the unhappy mistake may not be miscon-
strued into a wilful neglect of his duty, he most humbly begs
pardon of the public for the disappointment

Samuel Reddish,

This scrupulousness contrasts with the carelessness and dis-
order which set in when Garrick resigned the management

CHAPTEE VIII

COLMAN AND THE HATMARKET

George Colman the elder having disposed of his share in
Oovent Garden Theatre m 1774, remained without manage-
ment for three years , when finding that the unfortunate Foote
was about to retiie, he determined to take his place Knowing
with whom he had to deal, he employed an agent to conduct
the negotiations, and kept his name concealed *

The patent was only for Foote’s life, so that, it would
appear, was all he had to dispose of For this he was to
receive the handsome annuity of 1600Z For the theatre he,
as well as Oolman, had to pay rent to the landlord He
was to be also re-engaged, for his services as an actor,
although, as it happened, he only performed three times,
and Oolman purchased the copyright of his unpublished
dramatic pieces foi 5001 , It was mentioned that this patent

* They often met at dinner, when Foote, enlarging, as was his wont, on all
topics, would say Now here’s Oolman, an experienced manager , he can tell
yon there’s nobody can conduct such a peculiar business as mine but myself ,
but there’s a fat headed fellow of an agent who has been boring me every
morning at breakfast with terms for some blockhead who knows nothing about
the stage, but whose money burns m his pocket ” ** Playhouse mad,” said the
other “ Right,” replied Foote , and if "bleeding will bring him to his senses,
he’ll find me a devilish good doctor ” ” When the piinoipals met to sign and
seal, it might be conceived that Foote looked a little foolish, but it was said he
never blushed in his life ”

274 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE.

enabled the holder of it to open his house^ annually, for the
acting of all English dramatic performances from the 16th of
May to the 15th of September, inclusive As it proved, but a
single half-year^s payment was made when Foote died, so the
bargain turned out an excellent one for Oolman The new
manager, as well as his son, was a clever as well as a suc-
cessful man He gathered a large and excellent company for
so small a house, one that included Charles Bannister, Blissett,
Digges, Edwin, Miss Barsanti, later, Daly, the Dubhn
manager's wife, Mr and Mrs Davies, Miss Farren, Mrs,
Jewell, Mrs Love, Henderson, the two Palmers, Parsons, and
Foote himself — ^nearly fifty performers. Mr Winston has
added some notes on the list of performers

The theatre opened with the comedy of ^^The English
Merchant, and ^^LillipuV^ on the 15th of May, closed till
the 28th, and then performed three nights a week, till the
11th of June June 9th, Miss Farren first appeared in London
in the character of Miss Hardcastle, in the comedy of She
Stoops to Conquer June 11th, Mr Henderson (from
Bath) first appeared in London in the character of Shylock,
Mr Foote acted July 11th, 25th, and SOfch only, was to per-
form again, but was prevented by illness Mr Digges made
his first appearance in London in the character of Cato on
August 14th

This Mr. Winston, who later had a share in the direction,
deserves mention as one of the most diligent and omnivorous
collectors of all matters appei taming to dramatic art He
had collected methodically, and fiom every source, news-
papers, bills, memoirs, MSS , every detail that boie on the
life and adventures of the English performers These were
written out in the neatest of hands, and, with paragraphs cut
from newspapers, arranged under suitable headings This
mass of information thus collected was extraordinary, and
though much was valueless, it was intended to be carefully

OOLMAN AND THE HAYMARKIT.

27 ^

winnowed to form materials for a complete history of the
stage I have heard there were vast quantities of this matter
At his death all were dispersed, and even now some of
these curious documents are to be found occasionally at the
book and waste-paper shops of Clare Market I myself
recovered a good many fragments.

The criticism, however, of the town was, that the company
was meagre in fiist-rate talent Among the men, indeed,
theie were two excellent comedians and established favourites
— John Palmer and Parsons , the elder Bannister, also, was
then in full voice, and very popular as a singer , after these
we must descend to Aickm, commonly called ^ Belly Aiokin ^
(to distinguish him from his brother ^ Tyrant Aickin 0 j
nobody could be better in his secondary, or perhaps thirdly,
line of characteis R Palmer was then a rising young actor,
who was afterwards unique in a few sketches of dramatic cha-
racter, but he never attained the highest walks Du Dellamy,
too, was remarkable while singing and speaking, for the
cocking up of his thumbs This person was oiigmally a
shoemaker

It should be remembered that this was what was called a
summer theatre, and had to close at the season when the other
houses bega"^. This was a fair compromise, and kept the
little theatre from being a iival to the patent houses Later,
however, the term was extended to eight months, and Colman
tried the experiment of engaging country actors of emmence,
such as Mathews, but without much success

But the manager had drawn prizes in the three new per-
formers — Henderson, Barren, and Edwin, ^^all coming to-
gether, these stars produced a constellation.'^^ Henderson was
no doubt what might be called a ^^fine^^ actor Gariick,
indeed, had pronounced, a couple of years befoie, that he
might be made to figure in any of the puppets of his time,^^

276 A ISTEW HISTOET OF THE ENOLISH STAGE

thougli lie Ead a metliod of paving, which was iidiculous —
a happy word, borrowed from the curious sounds made by
paviors Miss Farren was, of course, the chief attraction

To dilate (says the manager’s son) upon the history of
the lovely and accomplished Miss Farren, would be very
supeifluous No person ever has more successfully performed
the elegant levities of Lady Townly upon the stage, or more
happily practised the amiable virtues of Lady Grace in the
highest circles of society.

It is characteristic of the late proprietor that he should
have noted these symptoms of success with ill-concealed
jealousy, though his own annuity depended on the piosperity
of the undertaking

His pique broke out sometimes in downiight rudeness
One morning he came hopping upon the stage duiing the
rehearsal of ^^The Spanish Barber,^^ which was slioitly to be
produced '‘WelV^said Foote, dryly, to my father, *^how do you
go on 7 Pretty well,^^ was the answer, but I can^t teach
one of these fellows to gape as he ought to do Can't
you 7 cried the lough Foote — ^^read him your last comedy of
^ The Man of Business ' and hell yawn for a month "

More malicious was his proceeding in the case of Digges,
when the latter made his delut

Digges had studied the antiquated style of acting, in
short, was a fine bit of old stage buckram , and Oato "
was, therefore, selected for his first essay He dis-
charged the character" in the same costume as it is to
be supposed was adopted by Booth when the play was
originally acted, that is, in a shape^ as it was technically
termed, of the stiffest order, decorated with gilt leather upon
a black ground, with black stockings, black gloves, and a
powdered periwig Foote waited till the customary round
of applause given to the actor on his entrance had subsided,
and then ejaculated, in a pretended undertone, loud enough
to be heard all around him ^^A Homan chimney-sweeper on

COLMAF AISTD THE HAYMAEKET

277

May Day ^ The laughter which this produced in the pit
was enough to knock up a debutant, and it startled the old
stager personating the Stoic of Utica The sarcasm was irre-
sistibly funny, but Foote deserved to be kicked out of the
house for his cruelty and his insolence, in mingling with
the audience for the purpose of disconcerting a brother-actor

Footers stock-plays weie chiefly of his own writing, and
his d) amahs pe^sonce required little more than a few common
coats and waistcoats When he wanted more habiliments
than he possessed he resorted to a fripene in Monmouth
Street — ^not to purchase, but to ]ob them by the night ; and
so vilely did some of the apparel fit the actors, that he was
often obliged to make a ]oke of the disgrace, and get the start
of the audience, if he could, in a laugh against his own troop
of tatteidemalions. There was a skeleton of a man belonging
to his company , the arms of his coat were particulaily wide,
and the cuffs covered his hands, Foote, during the debate,
always addressed this personage as the ^^much lespected
gentleman in the sleeves So improvident was he, that he
even hired most of the printed music which was played
between the acts, thus paying for it many times its value

It must be confessed that there is no character so cele-
brated of whom so much that is disagreeable is lecorded.
A hundred little touches, in all directions, betray his inborn
malice His frequent salutation of a little boy was a rough.
Blow your nose, child ’ attended with a whimsical grin His
own nose was generally begrimed with snuff As Oolman says,
his paradoxical celebrity on the stage was extraordinary ,
for his plays were not dramas, and his acting not of the
legitimate kind Yet,^^ adds that wiiter, who could be
named that for a series of years successfully maintained a
theatre on his own writing, on his own acting, and for ten
years of the time on a wooden leg ?

This prop to his person I once saw standing by his bed-
side, ready diessed in a handsome silk stocking, with a polished
shoe and gold buckle, awaiting the owner^s getting up , it had

*278 A NEW HISTOET OE THE ENaLISH STAGE

a kind of tragi-comical appearance. His mdi essed supporter
was the common wooden leg, like a mere stick, which was not
a little injurious to a well-kept pleasure-ground, I remember
following him, after a shower of rain, upon a nicely-rolled
terrace, in which he stumped a deep round hole at every
other step he took, till it appeared as if the gardener had
been there with his dibble.

He had a wink (says O’Keefe), and a smile with one corner
of his mouth, a harsh voice, except when mimicking His
manner on the stage was not very pleasant bo the performers
on with him, for he tried to engross all the attention, in
speaking, his own face was turned full to the audience,
while theirs was constantly in profile It is a method with an
old stager, who knows the advantageous points of his art, to
stand back out of the level with the actor who is on with him,
and thus he displays his own full figure and face to the
audience I was much diverted with seeing Macklm and
Sheridan, as Othello and lago, at this work, both endeavour-
ing to keep back, they at last got together up against the
back scene

The term of this malignant being^s life, however, was
drawing to a close It is clear from the instance of Digges that
the lesson he had lately learned was thrown away, and that his
ill-nature was h%s nature, and could not be changed This
disposes of the idea that he went away from England a broken
man, who never raised up his head again In May, 1777, he
played for the last time , but it was noted that he looked ill,
his cheeks withered and lank, his eyes sunk In October he
set off to France , got as far as Dover, where, seized with a
shivering fit at breakfast on October 21st, he died in three
hours

Thus Colman found himself in possession of the little
theatre, though his patent was expired. No doubt the pro-
prietors were glad to have so good a tenant, and he secured a
licence from the Lord Chamberlain. The house was, however.

COLMAK AND THE HAYMARKET

279

la a dilapidated condition, and had to be restoied ^^It was
new roofed, the ceiling heightened, the slips (sidelong
appendages, in the olden times, to the upper galleiy) were
turned into a third tier of front boxes, and an approach of a
few feet wide, and fewer deep, dignified by the name of a lobby,
was made to the boxes , whereas, in Footers days, there was
scarcely any space at all between them and the street , so that
the attention of the audience in this part of the theatre was
frequently distracted by post-horns, and the out-of-doors cry of
‘ Extraordinary News from France,^ while the modern Aristo-
phanes upon the stage was threatening French invaders with
^peppering their flat-bottomed boats,^ in the character of
Major Sturgeon. The avenues to all the side-boxes were so
incurably narrow that, when two corpulent gentlemen met in
them, and endeavoured to squeeze past each other, there was
great danger of their sticking by the way

A full enumeration of the different stage-riots would make
a stiange contribution to the annals of disorder The most
singular, however, was The Tailors^ Eiot,^^ m 1778, when
Mr, Foote, after his manner, seized the occasion of a dispute
between the master tailors and the journeymen to bring out an
a propos piece Many years later, in 1805, Dowton announced
this piece for his benefit, when anonymous letters were sent to
the manager, declaring that 17,000 tailors would attend to
oppose it, and there would be 10,000 more tailors to assist if
necessary On the morning of the day of performance he
received a similar letter, but in more violent language, and it
was signed ^ Death/ He showed the letters to Mr Dowton,
and it was agreed that if any violent opposition should be
offered the piece should not be acted, Mr. Dowton himself
received about fifty anonymous and threatening letters. In a
short time after the doors were opened in the evening, the pit

280 A NEW mSTOHY OE THE ENaLISH STAGE

and galleries were filled ; and it was very remarkable tbat in
tke two galleries there were only two women Mr Dowton
then made his appearance in character, when a pair of scissors
was thrown at him from the galleries, and he offered a reward
of 2011. for the apprehension of the offender A tenible not
followed, and the soldiers had at last to be called in. There
were footmen^s and chairmen^s riots, etc.

Anticipating by some years, it may be said that one of the
most piteous instances of that lingering on the stage beyond the
fitting time was now to be furnished by the veteran Macklin, who,
well-mgh forgotten, had resolved to come forward once more,
and, as it proved for the last time, to exhibit such powers as were
left to him On the night fixed he entered the green-room,
dressed for the part of Shylock, and, with wondering eye, asked
What the play was ^ He was told, and then asked, Who
was to play Shylock ? Notwithstanding this, he went on the
stage, but soon faltered, and after awhile his memory became
a blank, and he remained speechless Angelo recalled the
painful scene •

After a long pause, the audience becoming out of patience,
a general hissing ensued, regardless of his old age — ^then
approaching to ninety Not being able to proceed, he retired
I was in the pit, near to the orchestra, and was hurt to see the
old man come forward on the stage, in one hand holding a
candle, and in the other a paper, which he read to the
audience

He did not survive very long. The other spectacle was the
last appearance of the once beautiful Bellamy, now prematurely
old, sunk in poverty and general decay.

One of the most flattering testimonials ever given to an
actor arose out of an incident in the year 1778 in the House of
Commons. The subject of this comphmeiit was Mr. Grarrick,

COLMAiT AND THE HAYMAEKET

281

who one night in that year found himself listening to the
debates.

Highly offensive language (says Mr Tom Taylor) having
been used on this occasion, and one of the members having
resented it, the Speaker was called upon to interfeie, when
another honourable member, unwilling that the world without
should hear of the unseemly squabble, moved that the gallery
should be cleared. Strangers were ordered to withdraw, and
the gallery emptied gradually Sir Henry Bridgeman, member
for Wenlock,rose and observed, ^^That the motion to clear the
gallery had not been obeyed . . that a stranger was still
present — ^that that stranger do withdraw Mr. Burke on this
rose and appealed to that assembly whether it would be con-
sistent with decency and liberality to exclude from their debates
a man to whom they were all obliged — one who was the first
master of eloquence, in whose school they had all imbibed the
art of speaking, and had been taught the elements of rhetoric
For his part, he was proud to own that he had been gieatly
indebted to that gentleman^s instiuction. This was eloquently
amplified by all the resouioes of the rhetorician and illustiated
with the fancy of a poet When he had finished he was
followed by a member even more remarkable in appeal ance —
short, with Herculean limbs, though oveiloaded with fat, a
complexion at once swarthy and sanguine, bushy black eye-
brows overhanging eyes of rare sweetness and fire, a double
chin, black hair, dishevelled and scantily powdered, and a diess
as remarkable for slovenliness as that of the last speaker for
shabbiness This was Mr Fox. The voice of this orator was
shrill and high pitched almost to discordance, and his utterance
at first thick, hurried, and indistinct It seemed at starting as
if his ideas crowded to his tongue too fast for passage His
speech was a splendid variation on the same theme which the
hearers might have thought had been exhausted by the pie-
ceding speaker From this new mouth the same thoughts
came with new turns of phrase and an original play of fancy ,
but there was a simplicity, directness, and apparent spontaneous-
ness in the thoughts, that won upon the heart even more than
the wonderful felicity of the language upon the ear The House
voted, almost by acclamation, that the stranger should remain,

VOL II XT

282 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

Grarnck, naturally proud of the compliment, wrote a poem
on the occasion ,

Squire Bridgemau rose with deep intent,

And certified to Parliament
That I — it was a shame and sin —

When others were shut out, got in ;

Asserting, in his wise oration,

I gloried in my situation
I own my features might betray
Peculiar ]oy I felt that day ,

I glory when my mind is feasted
With dainties it has seldom tasted
When reason chooses Pox^s tongue
To be more rapid, clear, and strong
When from her classic urns Burke pours
A copious stream through banks and flowers.

My glory farther still extends,

For most of those I call my friends ,

But if. Squire Bridgeman, you were hurt
To see me, as you thought, so pert,

You ought to have punished my transgression.

And damped the ardour of expression.

A brute theie is whose voice confounds,

And frights all other with stiange sounds;

Had you, your matchless powers displaying.

Like him. Squire Bridgeman, set a-braying,

I should have lost all exultation.

Nor gloried in my situation.

CHAPTER IX

GAREICK AND HTS ACTRESSES

The time was now arrived wlien tins great performer and
sagacious administrator was to retire from his government.
Many reasons inclined him to this course — one, which might
have surprised some of our recent veteran actors, was that he
was ]ust sixty But he felt a weariness stealing on him , his
figure was deteriorating, his face losing its expression from
increase of flesh These were sufficient and sound reasons , but
the world found others in the fact that he had been persecuted
to death by the rebellious tone of three at least of his actresses.
Had it been his interest to do so, Mr Garrick could have sup-
ported this trial as he had always done, when he found it
necessary, but it seems more than likely that he forecasted
the signs of failure and flagging attractions in the theatrical
enterprise, and saw that the present was the time to sell. Of
the perverse and harassing proceedings of the three Drury
Lane actresses there could be no question As displays of
petulance they are amusing, as giving an idea of green-room
troubles

That there was a force of character and sense of duty and
honour in the well-known Kitty has been shown During
the theatrical revolt before described she was one of those

ij 2

284 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

figures tEat cannot Ee overlooked, like so many of tkis era.
Says Tate Wilkinson .

I well remember, on tbe second nigbt of the confederacy,
Mrs Olive called Miss Pope into the green-room, before her
going on the stage as Ooimna, and said to her My dear
Pope (a sweet appellation indeed from Olive), you played
particulaily well on Saturday night as a young actress Now,
take from me a piece of advice, which I would have every per-
foimer attend to You acted with great and deserved approba-
tion, but to-night you must endeavour to act better, and expect
to receive less applause, therefore, take my advice for your
proceeding on the stage The violent thunder of applause last
Saturday on your first appearance was not all deserved, it was
only benevolently bestowed to give you the pleasing information
that they weie well delighted, and had their warmest wishes
that you would hereafter merit the kindness they bestowed on
you.''

A sound and admirable piece of counsel, which gives a
good idea of the actresses character

The much-enduring Garrick had a vast deal to suffer at her
hands, and her humours and insolence were for many years his
plague That there should have been a genuine friendship and
mutual esteem under all this is creditable to both Yet she did
not spare the manager, and her free tongue would even ridicule
him before his company. Thus once, when he was entering
the green-room, arrayed magmficently in a glittering silver-
spangled tissue shape, Mrs Olive, instead of court adulation,
cried out, ‘ Oh my God ^ room ^ room * make loom for the
royal lamplighter ^ ' which rudeness disconcerted him much
for the remaining part of the evening , and certainly it was too
free, and not well timed, as he was trembling all over on the
first night of a new part in a new play "

Mrs. Abmgton was not of such genuine metal She plagued
the manager more effectually, being of a less delicate temper.
She had, indeed, risen from the very dregs, and the story of

GABEIOK AInTD HIS ACTEESSES

285

her whole career is interesting^ as showing how an actress rose
in those days Some of the gifted and clever creatures^ members
of G-arrick^s company, had come^ as it were, from the gutters
and sewers even , but under sound theatrical discipline had
become worthy members of the profession What a career
was that of this lady, painted so deliciously by Sir Joshua,
looking over the back of a chair, her dog beside her * Mr.
Muiphy recollected, when frequenting the taverns about Diury
Lane, a clever little girl, named Barton, belonging to Vinegar
Yard, who would offer to recite Shakespeare for the gentlemen.
According to the same authority, the succeeding portion of her
life had best not be scrutinised, being, as it were, in the puddle.”
But she married a humble player in the orchestra, a smart-
looking little man, lively in his conversation, and apparently
the ob]ect of attention to those who were near him Such a
companion was but an incumbrance to one of her tastes, and
it was understood that he was allowed an annuity on condition
of not troubling her. Her force of character is shown, that,
as soon as she had a fair opportunity, she struggled to se
7 ange't and take a lead in matters of taste though not of morals
Even in dress, ladies came to consult her And at Cork there
were Abington caps shown in the windows She sought the
company of clever personages, and had a readiness of speech,
coarse and vigorous, which recommended her

In 1 759, first engaged at Old Drury, and little appreciated,
she had come over to the Dublin Theatre, after having played
a few chance parts at Bath, and from the first she met a very
good and gracious acceptance, but not having the London
stamp of consequence was only spoken of as really a very
clever woman. When the lively comedy of ^ High Life Below
Stairs,^ then a novelty, was brought out, everyone was
enchanted with the vivacity of Kitty, It was peipetually
acted, and with never-failing success. In ten days after its

286 A NEW HISTORY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

being performed, Abington^s cap was so much the taste with
the ladies of fashion and ion^ that there was not a millmer^s
shop-window, great or small, but was adorned with it, and in
large letters ^ Abington ^ appeared, to attract the passers-by.
This Abington rage Woodward endeavoured to suppress by
ridicule, not here described, but all to little or rather to
no purpose, for her reputation as an actress daily increased/^
The testimonies of those who had seen her are all unanimous
in her praise.

Her person (says Dawes) is formed with great elegance;
her address is graceful, her looks animated and expressive,
the tones of her voice are not naturally charming to the ear,
but her mcompaiable skill in modulation rendeis them per-
fectly agreeable Her articulation is so exact that every
syllable she utters is conveyed distinctly and even har-
moniously. She, I think (says Mr Boaden), took more entire
possession of the stage than any actress I have seen Shall I
say that I have never seen the fan in a hand so dexterous as
that of Mrs Abington ^ She was a woman of great applica-
tion ; to speak as she did required more thought than usually
attends female study She seized upon the exact cadence
and emphasis by which the point of the dialogue is enforced.
Her voice was of a high pitch, and not very powerful. Her
management of it alone made it an organ. Her deportment is
not so easily described , far beyond even the conception of
modern fine ladies, Mrs Abington remains in memory as a
thing for chance to restore to us rather than design, and
revive our polite comedy at the same time.

In Garrick^s company she remained till he retired, though
she was a perpetual thoin in his side, plaguing him in every
way. At last he wrote of her, she is as silly as she is false
and treacherous,^^ or describes her as ^^that most worthless
creature,'' or ^'worst of bad women.’'^ Yet there was a touch of
comedy in these wrangles, yet more pointed by the manager's
unruffled calm under great provocation When, in 1774, she
was called upon to take a part at short notice, it was scarcely

GAEEICK Am) HIS AOTEESSES

287

wonderful that the manager wrote of her with the greatest
hitterness She is below the thought of any honest man or
woman She is as silly as she is false and treacherous ”

Yet the artful lady during this very time had contrived to
win the favour of the great ^^Bear^^ of Bolt Court, and
there is a pleasing passage in his life which would make a
capital subject for a picture

On Monday, March 27th, 1775, 1 breakfasted with him at
Mr Strahan’s He told us that he was engaged to go that
evening to Mrs Abmgton^s benefit She was visiting some
ladies whom I was visiting, and begged that I would come to
her benefit I told her I could not hear , but she insisted
so much on my coming that it would have been brutal to
have refused her/^ This was a speech quite characteristical
He loved to bring forward his having been in the gay circles
of life, and he was, perhaps, a little vain of the solicitations
of this elegant and fashionable actress He told us the
play was to be The Hypocrite

The night came round of this unusual spectacle of the
doctor attending a theatre

I met him (says his friend) at Drury Lane playhouse
in the evening Sir Joshua Reynolds, at Mrs Abington^s
request, had promised to bring a body of wits to her benefit;
and having secured forty places in the front boxes, had done
me the honour to put me m the group Johnson sat on the
seat directly behind me , and as he could neither see nor hear
at such a distance from the stage, he was wrapped up in grave
abstraction, and seemed quite a cloud amidst all the sunshine
of glitter and gaiety I wondered at his patience in sitting
out a play of five acts and a farce of two He said very httle,
but after the prologue to ^^Bon Ton^^ had been spoken, which
he could hear pretty well from the more slow and distinct
utterance, he talked on prologue-writing, and observed,
^^Dryden has written prologues superior to any that David
Garrick has written, but David Garrick has written more
good prologues than Dryden has done. It is wonderful that

288 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

lie has been able to write such variety of them At Mr
Beanclerk’s, where I supped, was Mr Garrick, whom I made
happy with Johnson’s praise of his prologues

Boswell, it will be seen, notes that he could not see or
hear, and a few nights later, at a tavern, he says

One of the company attempted, with too much forwardness,
to rally him on his late appearance at the theatre , but had
reason to repent of his temerity ^^Why, sir, did you go to
Mrs Abington^s benefit? Did you see^^^ Johnson ^^IsTo,
sir ^^Did you hear ^ Johnson No^ sir ^^Why then,
sir, did you go ^ Johnson Because, sir, she is a favourite
of the public , and when the public cares the thousandth part
for you that it does for her, I will go to your benefit too/^

This rebuke was, of course, given to Boswell himself

It was not, however, until Garrick had retired, and under
the new management of Sheridan, that she became identified
with the great success of The School for Scandal, being
the original Lady Teazle. This, though she was not in
her prime, added vastly to her reputation

It IS not less interesting to follow this clever woman into
her unprofessional life, her company apparently being sought
and appreciated by persons of some distinction. She had
great powers of entertainment, and Mr. Taylor describes her
at a party, leading and enlivening the conversation with her
anecdotes and remarks.

Horace Walpole writes as follows

June 11th, 1780

Madam,

You may certainly always command me and my
house. My common custom is to give a ticket for only four
persons at a time, but it would be very insolent in me, when
all laws are set at naught, to pretend to prescribe rules At

aAREICK AKD HIS ACTRESSES

28 ^

such times tliei’e is a shadow of authority in setting the laws
aside hy the legislature itself , and though I have no army
to supply their place, I declare Mrs Abmgton may march
through all my dominions at the head of as large a troop as
she pleases — I do not say, as she can muster and command,
for then I am sure my house would not hold them The day,
too, is at her own choice , and the master is her very obedient,
humble servant.

Hob Walpole

Mis Abington^s card-parties, which she was fond of
giving, were attended by persons of the highest rank She
became in time to be almost fashionable But she showed
the weakness of the parvenu in going into hiding in London
when distinguished people were out of town There is a
retired street of small old houses, close to Buckingham Palace,
called StafEord Place, which she used to retire to for the
purpose *

^^She died in Pall Mall, in March, 1815, at the advanced
age of eighty-four, having contributed lustre to the pio-
fession she followed One of the best records of her m
her prime is Sherwin^s beautiful tinted engraving, after Sir
Joshua^s picture of her as Roxalana. The grace and brilliancy
of the performance make its attraction second only to that
of the ongmal/^

Another of Sir Joshua^s favourite subjects was the hand-
some Mrs Hartley, one of Garrick^s effective tragedy ladies,
and of whom there is a good full-length portrait in the Grarrick
Club, her red hair being conspicuous. It was the manager's
custom to get regular reports of promising actors likely to
suit him, and Mr, Moody, thus despatched, gives a sketch of
her worthy of an eminent literary hand

* I once heard an actress thus taken np by “ persons of quality/' and who

arrived at a party one night, lamenting loudly to Lady that she had

been obliged to take a cab '

290 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

Sunday, July 26th, 1772.

Diab Sir,

I have to ask your pardon that I did not answer
yours yesterday, hut I was at Bath, it being a vacant
day Mrs Hartley is a good figure, with a handsome small
face, and very much freckled her hair red, and her neck and
shoulders well turned There is not the least harmony in her
voice , but when forced (which she never fails to do on every
occasion), is loud and strong, but such an inarticulate gabble
that you must be well acquainted with her part to understand
her. She is ignorant and stubborn the latter might be got
the better of at Drury Lane, and the former mended , but I
despair of either at Govent Garden, where she is engaged
notwithstanding, there is a superficial glare about her that may
carry her through a few nights, but, be assured, she cannot
last long She has a husband, a precious fool, that she heartily
despises She talks lusciously, and has a slovenly good-nature
about her that rendei’s her prodigiously vulgar She is to
out- Jane Shore all that ever went befoie her in that they
intend to launch her. But all the last act is a perfect model
of Mrs. Kennedy's Mrs. Honeycomb,*^^

The reader, who desires to learn more of the contentions
with Mrs Yates and Miss Younge, which so worried Garrick,
may peruse, with much entertainment, the amusing letters
preserved in the Garrick Correspondence ’’

CHAPTER X.

THE GARRICK SCHOOL.

GtArrick, after lie retired, was to leave beliiiid him a school of
well- trained, well-graced actors, each furnished with a round of
sterling characters, which they performed at regular intervals,
and which belonged to them of right. They were, in fact,
the characters , anyone else would be out of keeping There
are some admirable well-sketched descriptions of these players
which, besides touching on some useful principles, bring them
very picturesquely before us. Boaden, who was on friendly
terms with many of them, and had a graphic though re-
dundant style, shall portray them for us, all his amplifications
being omitted.

Madelines Shylook was seen by Bernand, the actor, and his
recollection furnishes him with an excellent bit of criticism,
well worthy the attention of the general performer After
saying that its success was owing to certain physical advan-
tages which suited to his own peculiar nature, he adds If
the truth could be ascertained, I believe that the key to the
success of all actors in particular characters would be found to
consist in certain complexional resemblances between the two,
mdependent of all genius, which enabled a more ready and
perfect identity to take place ; not that the man who plays a
villain well must be a villain, or a hero a hero, but each must

202 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

possess some natural adaption to assume tie one witli moie
ease and felicity than the other. Cook and Kemble are cases
in point

Smith. This player enjoyed the complimentaiy sohiquet
of Gentleman Smith/^ fiom his style and tastes^ as from his
having married a lady of title. His deportment was dignified
and manly^ his action graceful and never redundant. Nature
had denied to him an expressive countenance^ yet was he
certainly a handsome man and an elegant stage figure The fine
gentleman in comedy was then very different from what it has
since become — it was regulated by higher manners, and seemed
horn in polished life and educated in drawing-rooms The
dress kept the performer up to the character It was necessary
to wear the sword and to manage it gracefully As the hair
was dressed and powdered^ the hat was supported under the
arm The mode of approaching the lady was more respectful ;
and it required the most delicate address to lead and seat her
upon the stage. It will be recollected that ladies wore the
hoop, and in all the brilliancy of court dress appeared very
formidable beings. The flippancy of the modern style makes
a bow look like a mockery, it does nob seem naturally to
belong to a man in pantaloons and a plain blue coat, with a
white or a black waistcoat Genteel comedy, among us, suffers
greatly from the comparative undress of our times What can
you do, for instance, with such a comedy as ^^The Careless
Husband ? Its dialogue could never proceed from the
fashionables of the present day ; different times can only be
signified by difference of costume Should we, therefore, venture
back to the lace and embroidery, the swords and bags of the
last age, the difference fiom ow present costume would excite
a laugh [A curious comment on the system of stage costume
then in vogue] Mr Burke has observed the reason why
these comedies in higher life are so pleasing He adds
I have observed that persons, especially women, in lower
life and of no breeding, are fond of such representations ; it
seems like introducing them into good company ^ and the honour
compensates the dulness of the entertainment

Palmer, in his general deportment, had a sort of elaborate
grace and stately superiority, which he affected on all occasions,
with an accompaniment of the most plausible politeness He

THE gaeeick: school

293

was tlie same on and off tlie stage, lie was constantly acting
the man of superior accomplishments This it was that rendered
Palmer so exquisite in High Life Below Stairs He was
really my lord duke^s footman, affecting the airs and manners
of his master, and here was the diffeience between him and
Dodd, who, from the radical gentility of his fops, became in
the kitchen the real Sir Harry, instead of his coxcomb and
impudent valet

Palmer, however, was an actor of infinite address, and
sustained a very important line of business in the company.
He was a man of great expense and luxurious habits, perfectly
irreclaimable, and usually negligent , but he would throw up his
eyes with astonishment that he had lost the word, or cast them
down with penitent humility, wipe his lips with his eternal
white handkerchief to smother his errors, and bow himself out
of the greatest absurdities that continued idleness could bring
upon him.

Dodd, with more confined powers, was one of the most
perfect actors He was the foplmg of the d^ama rather than
the age He was, to be sure, the prince of pink heels and
the soul of empty eminence As he tottered rather than
walked down the stage, m all the protuberance of endless
muslin and lace in his cravats and frills, he 'reminded you of
the jutting motion of the pigeon His action was suited to his
figure He took his snuff, or his bergamot, with a delight so
beyond all grosser en]oyments that he left you no doubt what-
ever of the superior happiness of a coxcomb.

King, though very confined in hia powers, was one of the
most perfect actors His peculiar sententious manner made
him seek, and indeed require, dialogue of the greatest point.
He converted everything into epigram, and although no man^s
utterance was more rapid, yet the ictus fell so smartly upon
the point, his tune was so perfect, and the members of his
sentences were so well antagonised, that he spoke all such
composition with more effect than any man of his time He
was at home in the arch and impudent valet who shares his
master^s imperfections with his confidence, and governs him
by his utility A character which I do not think belongs to
our manners as a nation, and seems imported from the French
stage, but never naturalised among us. Nothing approached

294 A ]^EW HISTOET OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

liim m tlie dry and timid liabitaal baclielor, drawn into the
desperate union with youth, and beauty, and gaiety

Parsons He was a master in the exhibition o£ vulgar
importance. His Alscnp in ^^The Heiress was ludicrous
in the extreme, but it was, perhaps, reserved for Sheridan to
show the utmost that Parsons could achieve m Sir Fretful
Plagiary in ^^The Critic I have repeatedly enjoyed this
rich treat, and became sensible how painful laughter might be
when such a man as Parsons chose to throw his whole force
into a character. When he stood under the castigation of
Sneer, affecting to enjoy criticisms which made him writhe in
agony, when the tears were in his eyes and he suddenly
checked his unnatural laugh to enable him to stare aghast
upon his tormentors, a picture was exhibited of mental anguish
and frantic rage, of mortified vanity and affected contempt,
which would almost deter an author from the pen unless he
could be sure of his firmness under every possible provocation

Passing over to Oovent Garden with the same guide, we
find not less entertainment

Lewis The youthful hero there was at this time sustained
by Mr. Lewis, the sprightly, the gay, the exhilarating, the
genteel, the animating soul of modern, and of much of ancient,
comedy The charm of this really fine actor was in his animal
spirits As a speaker he totally failed He hurried as much
of a sentence together as he could in a breath, and stopped
where the verbal complexion of what he said required him to
go on In action he was the most restless of human beings
He kept up a perpetual flicker before the eye, and seemed to
exact an almost exclusive attention. As our theatres became
larger this was rendered m some degree necessary, there was
a great space to fill, and without infinite expression of the face
an actor who did not hustle was totally without effect. The ten-^
deucy of Lewis, just mentioned, rendered him rather insensible
to the great results of combination in the scene.

Wioughton^s person was ill-made, his face round and
swoln, his features small and inexpressive, his voice uncertain,
hoarse, and disagreeable However, a certain consequence
invested his deportment. He was never vacant or idle.

THE GAEBICK SCHOOL.

295

Qmth had most generally the honour to sustain the testy
old gullable personage There was the same constantly florid
face; the same compression of the mouth and elevation of the
eyebrowS; the same shrill squeak m the utterance; and odd
totter in the step ; but his entrance was invariably the signal
for honest hearty merriment To this general effect of Quick’s
acting; an impoitant circumstance in his theatrical life most
powerfully contributed He was beyond all comparison in
comedy; the decided favourite of the late King, a determined
patron of the stage There was a gay and hearty ]ocularity
about the King while sitting at a comedy — a something so en-
dearing to see greatness relaxing from its state, throwing off,
and apparently glad to throw off, some of the trammels of
royalty, and exhibiting, without the least restraint, a full
sense of pleasure at a liberal and enlightened amusement
QuickCs powers of enteitainment were not confined to the
stage ; he told a story admirably The late King sometimes
had him in attendance at Buckingham House , and the little
time he could spare from the various business that pressed
upon him he delighted to pass m listening to QuickCs eccen-
tricities He frequently appointed to see him in the iiding-
house, and took his amusement and his exeicise together

Edwin, As a comedian he seemed bom to give effect ta
the farces of O^Keefe Peeping Tom had one scene nioie
masterly than anything I have seen in a farce , I mean that of
poor Tom^s abstraction while, in his mind^s eye, he sees the
whole procession of Lady Godiva pass before him. This was
a thing of pure fancy and infinitely productive. Ton would
have sworn to the succeeding images of this procession , the
distant view of the equitation of Godiva, her approach, ^^her
unadorned charms at last brought fully before his eye, and
the burst of commentary, ^^Talk of a coronation all together
produced a revelry of enjoyment that used to convulse the
spectators, and it is a precious recollection of the power of
a true comedian Nothing from Edwin, in pure comedy,
exceeded his Sir Hugh Evans, his study of the sword and
the word, his ejaculations, his cholers and tremblings of
mind; his music, his songs and psalms, neither and yet
both; were among the greatest luxuries of the art

296 A ITEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

A German critic, who came to London and wrote of the
English actors, gives some masterly sketches. The following,
of Weston and Gairick, in "Abel Drugger,” is actually a
lesson in acting It is truly vivid in its power

I think I see Weston before me, petrified at every sudden
movement of the astrologers, or at any unusual noise which he
does not immediately know how to interpret, standing like a
mummy, with his feet parallel, and then, when the fear is
over, coming to life again, first with his eyes, examining
everything, and lastly turmng his head slowly right and left
till the whole house bursts into applause and laughtei*, even
the Clitics laugh at the comical fellow But when Ganick
acts Abel Drugger it is the critics who begin the applause
Absorbed and benumbed as he is by the intensity of his feel-
ings, the language of the looks is not wanting. He, there-
fore, makes poor Abel display his character — simplicity and
supei stition — in easy and natural yet original signs at every
moment I will menrion only one trait When the astro-
logers lead in the stars, letter for letter, the name of Abel
Drugger, now become celebrated, the poor simpleton has to
say with inward pleasure, " That is my name ” Garrick
makes a secret delight of this , any open demonstration would
have been out of keeping with his awe-stricken state Turn-
mg away from the astrologers, he indulges for a while in his
seciet joy, so that he actually gets those red rings under the
eyes which always accompany any strong yet forcibly sup-
pressed feeling of pleasure; and after this pause, says to
himself half aloud, " That is my name ” This judicious
secietiveness produces an indescribable effect. It marks not
only the silly, passive fool and dupe, but that still moie
ridiculous form of ass who fancies himself a wonderfully clever
fellow.

Eenderson. He was at this time, perhaps, the greatest
master of the art. His tragedy, however, was certainly
inferior to his comedy His understanding was of the highest
order, and his feelings could be mstantaneously excited, but
his person was without either dignity or grace, and his eye,

THE GAEEIOK SCHOOL.

297

thougli well placed for expressioo, wanted colour, as his
face, though rather handsome, was too fleshy to show all
the muscular action in which expiession resides He was
neglectful, too, of such aids as might have been had to his
figure. He paid not the slightest attention to costume, and
was indifferent even as to the neatness or fitting of his dress.
All his excellencies were perfectly concomitant with propriety
of dress Had he studied appearance his Lear might have
been venerable Although his Hamlet could not be the
mould of form,^^ it might easily have been ^^the glass of
fashion , but he never looked even to the linings of the suit
he wore , and once boasted that he had played, I think, ten
characters consecutively in the same coat His conceptions
were grand, and beautiful, and ]ust, but they were often
baffled by his execution of them When Henderson^s Lear
was first discovered he looked like Falstaff sitting as Henry
the Fourth , and when Lear speaks in his sleep, and fancying
himself on the point of gaming the battle, exclaims, Charge,
charge upon the flank ^ the tones were exactly those with
which Falstaff encourages Hal in the combat with Percy , and
excited a titter from so unsuitable a recollection. The power
of Henderson was analytic. He was not contented with the
meie light of common meaning — ^he showed it you thiough a
prism, and refracted all the delicate and mingling hues that
enter into the composition of any ray of human character
Miss Farren She had succeeded at Drury Lane Theatre
to the characters which had been performed by Mrs Abington,
though it would be difficult to mention two actresses who
differed more essentially in their comic style. They both
delighted to exhibit the woman of fashion. She was, at
this time, in her person, tall and peifectly graceful, her
face was beautiful and expressive , her voice was rather thm,
and of but slender power, but rendered effective by an articu-
lation of the greatest neatness and precision. It was her
piactice, from the weakness of her organ, to stand rather
forward upon the stage The character of her acting was
distinguished by the grace of delicacy beyond that of every
comic actress I have seen It was, as it were, the soul of all
she did , and even in the comedies of Congreve she never lost
it for a moment The eye sparkled with intelligence. Her

VOL. II.

X

298 A IjTEW HISTOBY OF THE EHOLISH STAGE

levity therefore was never wanton , her mirth had no appi oach
to rudeness She played upon a coxcomb of either sex with
the highest zest

M^ss Pope The paragon of chambermaids , the pert^ sly,
jocose abigail of modern comedy

Mrs Ahington She seemed to combine in her excellence
the requisites for both the fashionable lady and her maid, and
more, much more, than all this I cannot endure that lady^s
tongue There was, in truth, such a tartness m her plea-
santry ; she was so fine a speaker of humour, like her friend
Tom King — and they were so suited to each other, that they
each lost nearly half their soul in their separation The ball
must be kept up by players of equal skill for the game
to be perfectly played There was the most enjouement m
Mrs Abmgton that I have ever seen She had more self-
complacency, and seemed more triumphant in her captiva-
tions, than any other Lady Betty of my time She saw natuie
through a highly-refined medium, and never condescended to
vulgar taste Her acting bore the marks of gieat application,
and was at once surprising and delightful The modern stage
affords but a slight idea of her.

Mis, Mattocls In her private manners she was rather
refined, and had some of the graceful ease of the old schooL
On the stage she had a taste for the gieatest breadth of
effect, and excited probably as much laughter as Lewis
himself She was the patent repiesentative of all widows
of distinction, whether they were discriminated by valuable
or mischievous properties Nor were her chambermaids with-
out the usual dexterity of the class

The vulgar MalhiUj raised into ludicrous importance, came
fiom Mattocks m genuine coaiseness, both of look and depoit-
ment Her voice, on such occasions, was as dissonant as a saw,
and she converted her natural quick short step and gliding gait
into an awkward hobble or jolt, that seemed studied from the
bumpkins of a country fair. She was a sort of stage Hogarth.

M%ss l[ounge She had astonishing versatility as an actress.
I know not whether, m strictness, her genius could be called of
the first order ; but she certamly was the most useful performer
that any theatre could possess.

In comedy, her women of fashion, though rather too solid

THE GAEBIOK SCHOOL

299

and stately^ were yet graceful and spoitiye She did not affect
a girlish activity it was her mind that was buoyant; and it
seemed to carry the fiame lightly through the scene I refer
here more paiticulaily to the fine flight of Miss Hardy in the
masquerade scene of Mrs Cowley's Belle's Sti’atagem/'
Join him in the victorious wai -dance on the borders of Lake
Ontario/' etc The animation of some pomtS; the subdued soft-
ness of otheiS; and the swelling triumph of her close of the
passage; furnished one of the most fascinating exhibitions upon
the stage Such was Miss YoungO; and; to the last; such was
Mrs Pope

We may also turn to a finer and better-known limner; Elia;
whose sketches of this period are of the very finest class
Familiar as they are; they cannot be omitted from a history
of the stage; but are printed with a little abridgment.

Flayhills. The casual sight of an old playbill; which I picked
up the other day — I know not by what chance it was preserved
so long — tempts me to call to mind a few of the players who
make the principal figure in it It piesents the cast of parts
in the ‘^Twelfth Night;" at the old Diury Lane Theatre; two-
and-thirty years ago. There is something very touching in
these old remembiances They make us think how we once
used to read a playbill — not, as now, peradventure, singling
out a favourite performer, and casting a negligent eye over the
rest ; but spelling out eveiy name, down to the very mutes and
servants of the scene , — when it was a matter of no small
moment to us whether Whitfield or Packer took the part of
Fabian , when Benson, and Burton, and Philhmore — names of
small account — ^liad an importance beyond what we can be
content to attribute now to the time’s best actors Orsino,
by Mr Barrymore " What a full Shakespearean sound it
carries ’ how fresh to memory arise the image and the manner
of the gentle actor *

Mrs, Jordan Those who have only seen Mrs Jordan within
the last ten or fifteen years can have no adequate notion of
her performance of such paits as Ophelia, Helena; in All's
Well that Ends Well ; " and Viola in this play Her voice had
latterly acquired a coarseness which suited well enough with

X 2

m A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

her Nells and Hoydens, hut m those days it sank, with her
steady melting eye, into the heart. Her joyous parts — m which
her memory now chiefly lives — in her youth were outdone by
her plaintive ones. There is no giving an account how she
delivered the disguised story of hei love for Orsino It was no
set speech that she had foreseen, so as to weave it into an
harmonious period, line necessarily following line, to make up
the music — ^yet I have heard it so spoken, or rather read, not
without its grace and beauty — but when she had declared her
sister^s history to be a “ blank, and that she never told her
love,^^ there was a pause, as if the story had ended — and then
the image of the ^^worm in the bud^^ came up as a new
suggestion — and the heightened image of Patience still
followed after that, as by some growing (and not mechanical)
process, thought springing up after thought, I would almost
say, as they were wateied by her tears

Bensley. Of all the actois who flomished in my time — a
melancholy phrase if taken aright, reader — Bensley had most
of the swell of soul, was greatest in the delivery of heroic con-
ceptions He had the true poetical enthusiasm None that I
remember possessed even a portion of that fine madness which
he threw out in Hotspur^s famous rant about glory, or the
transports of the Venetian incendiary at the vision of the fired
city. His voice had the dissonance, and at times the inspiriting
effect of the trumpet His gait was uncouth and stiff, but no
way embarrassed by affectation , and the thoroughbred gentle-
man was uppermost in every movement He let the passion
or the sentiment do its own work without prop or bolstering.
He would have scorned to mountebank it ; and betiayed none
of that cleverness which is the bane of serious acting Por this
reason, his lago was the only endurable one which I remember
to have seen. No spectator, from his action, could divine moio
of his artifice than Othello was supposed to do. His confession
in soliloquy alone put you in possession of the mystery There
were no by-intimations to make the audience fancy their own
discernment so much greater than that of the Moor — who com-
monly stands like a great helpless mark set up for mine Ancient,
and a quantity of barren spectators, to shoot their bolts at.
The lago of Bensley did not go to work so grossly. There was
a triumphant tone about the character, natural to a general

THE g-aebiok: school

•301

consciousness of power , but none of that petty vanity whicli
chuckles and cannot contain itself upon any little successful
stroke of its knavery — as is common with your small villains
and green probationers in mischief It did not clap or ciow
before its time. It was not a man setting his wits at a child,
and winking all the while at other children, who are mightily
pleased at being let into the secret , but a consummate villain
entrapping a noble nature into toils against which no discern-
ment was available, where the manner was as fathomless as the
puipose seemed dark and without motive The part of Malvolio,
in the Twelfth Night/ ^ was performed by Hensley with a
richness and a dignity of which (to ]udge from some recent
castings of that character) the very tradition must be worn out
from the stage No manager in those days would have dreamed
of giving it to Mr Baddeley, or Mr. Parsons; when Hensley
was occasionally absent from the theatre, John Kemble thought
it no derogation to succeed to the part. Malvolio is not
essentially ludicrous He becomes comic but by accident.
He IS cold, austere, repelling , but dignified, consistent,
and, for what appears, rather of an overstretched morality
His dialect on all occasions is that of a gentleman and a
man of education We must not confound him with the
eternal old, low steward of comedy. He is master of the
household to a gieat princess , a dignity probably conferred
upon him for other respects than age or length of service
Hensley, accordingly, threw over the part an air of Spanish
loftiness. He looked, spake, and moved like an old Castilian
He was starch, spruce, opinionated, but his superstructure of
pride seemed bottomed upon a sense of worth. There was
something in it beyond the coxcomb. It was big and swelling,
but you could not be sure that it was hollow You might wish
to see it taken down, but you felt that it was upon an elevation
He was magnificent from the outset ; but when the decent
sobrieties of the character began to give way, and the poison of
self-love, in his conceit of the Countess's affection, gradually to
work, you would have thought that the hero of La Mancha in
person stood before you. How he went smiling to himself ^
with what ineffable carelessness would he twirl his gold chain ^
what a dream it was* you were infected with the illusion!
Who would not wish to live but for a day in the conceit of such

302* A NEW HISTOEY OE TEE* ENGLISH STAGE

a lady^s love as Olivia ? Why^ tlie duke would Lave given kis
principality but for a quarter of a minute^ sleeping or wakings
to bave been so deluded The man seemed to tiead upon air,
to taste manna, to walk with his head in the clouds^ to mate
Hypeiion. I confess that I never saw the catastrophe of this
character, while Beusley played it, without a kind of tiagic
interest Thei e was good foolery too

Dodd Pew now remember Dodd. In expressing slowness
of apprehension this actor surpassed all others. You could see
the first dawn of an idea stealing slowly over his countenance,
climbing up by little and little, with a painful process, till it
cleared up at last to the fulness of a twilight conception — its
highest meridian He seemed to keep back his intellect, as
some have had the power to retard their pulsation* The balloon
takes less time in filling than it took to cover the expansion of
his broad moony face over all its quarters with expression A
glimmer of understanding would appear in a corner of his eye,
and for lack of fuel go out again A part of his forehead
would catch a little intelligence, and be a long time in
communicating it to the remainder. I am ill at dates, but I
think it is now better than five-and-twenty years ago that,
walking in the gardens of Gray^s Inn, taking my afternoon
solace on a summer day upon the terrace, a comely sad personage
came towards me, whom, from his grave air and deportment, I
judged to be one of the old Benchers of the Inn He had a
serious thoughtful forehead, and seemed to be in meditations of
moitahty. I was passing him with that sort of subindicative
token of respect which one is apt to demonstiate towards a
veueiable sti anger, and which rather denotes an inclination to
greet him than any positive motion of the body to that effect,
when the face turning full upon me strangely identified itself
with that of Dodd Upon closeanspection I was not mistaken.
But could this sad thoughtful countenance he the same vacant
face of folly which I had hailed so often under circumstances of
gaiety , which I had never seen without a smile, or recognised
but as the usher of mirth , that looked out so formally fiat in
Foppington, so frothily pert in Tattle, so impotently busy m
Backbite , so blankly divested of all meaning, or resolutely
expiessivG of none, m Acres, in Pribble, and a thousand
agreeable impertinences ^ There is something strange as well

THE OAERICK SCHOOL

g03

as sad in seeing actors — your pleasant fellows particularly — ^
subjected to and suffering tbe common lot^ — their fortunes, their
casualties, their deaths, seem to belong to the scene, their
actions to be amenable to poetic justice only. We can hardly
connect them with more awful responsibilities The death of
this fine actor took place shortly after this meeting. He had
quitted the stage some months , and, as I learned afterwards,
had been in the habit of resorting daily to these gardens almost
to the day of his decease.

Suett If few can remember Dodd, many yet Imng will not
easily forget the pleasant creature who in those days enacted
the part of the Clown to Dodd^s Sir Andrew Richard, or
rather Dicky Suett — ^for so in his lifetime he delighted to be
called, and time hath ratified the appellation — ^lieth buried on
the north side of the cemetery of Holy Paul, to whose service
his nonage and tender years were dedicated There are those
who do yet lemember him at that period — ^his pipe clear and har-
monious He would often speak of his chorister- days, when he
was Cherub Dicky He was the Robin Good-Fellow of the
stage He came in to trouble all things with a welcome
perplexity, himself no whit troubled for the matter He was
known, like Puck, by his note, Ha ^ ha * ha ' sometimes
deepening to Ho * ho ’ ho ^ with an irresistible accession,
derived perhaps remotely from his ecclesiastical education,
foreign to his prototype of ^^0 la ^ Thousands of hearts yet
respond to the chuckhng '^0 la' ” of Dicky Suett, brought back
to their remembrance by the faithful transcript of his fnend
Mathewses mimicry. The force of nature could no further
go He drolled upon the stock o£ these two syllables richer
than the cuckoo.

Palmea. The elder Palmer (of stage-treading celebriijy)
commonly played Sir Toby in those days , but there is a
solidity of wit m the jests of that half-Falstaffi which he dad
not quite fill out He was as much too showy as Moody (who
sometimes took the part) was dry and sottish.^ In sock or
buskin there was an air of swaggering gentility about Jack
Palmer He was a gentlemdri with a slight infusion of the
footman* His brother Bob (of recenter memory), who was his
shadow in everything while he lived, and dwindled into less
than a shadow afterwards, was a gentleman "with a little stronger

804 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENOLISH STAGE

infasion of tlie lattei ingredient, that was all It is amaziBg
how a little of the more or less makes a difference in these
things. When you saw Bobby in the Duke^s Seivant^ you
saidj what a pity such a pretty fellow was only a servant When
you saw Jack figuring in Captain Absolute, you thought you
could trace his promotion to some lady of quality who
fancied the handsome fellow in his top-knot, and had bought
him a commission Therefore Jack in Dick Amlet was in-
superable Jack had two voices, both plausible, hypocritical,
and insinuating ; but his secondary or supplemental voice still
more decisively histrionic than his common one It was re-
served for the spectator, and the dramatis personce were sup-
posed to knownothing at all about it. The lies of young Wilding,
and the sentiments in Joseph Suiface, were thus maiked out m
a sort of italics to the audience. This secret correspondence
with the company before the curtain, which is the bane and
death of tragedy, has an extremely happy effect in some
kinds of comedy, in the more highly artificial comedy of
Congreve or of Sheiidan, especially where the absolute sense
of reality so indispensable to scenes of interest is not required,
or would rather interfere to dimmish your pleasuie. The
fact IS, you do not believe in such characters as Surface —
the villain of artificial comedy — even while you read or see
them.

Munden, Can any man wonder like him ^ Can any man
see ghosts like him ? or fight with hs own shadow — sessa. —
as he does in that strangely-neglected thing, The Cobbler of
Preston,^^ where his alternations from the Cobbler to the
Magnifico, and from the Magnifico to the Cobbler, keep the
brain of the spectator in as wild a feiment as if some Arabian
Night were being acted before him ^ Who like him can throw,
or even attempt to throw, a preternatural interest over the
commonest daily-life objects ^ A table or a joint-stool, in his
conception, rises into a dignity equivalent to Cassiopeiums
chair. It is invested with constellatory importance So
the gusto of Munden antiquates and ennobles what it
touches. A tub of butter, contemplated by him, mounts to
a Platonic idea. He understands a leg of mutton in its
quiddity.

THE GAERIOK SCHOOL.

305

Colman gives this pleasant sketch of Hensley .

Hensley, while on the stage, married by accident He was
travelling m a hack postcbaise, which, on turning a shaip
corner of the road near Hristol, came in violent contact with a
lady on horseback The fair one was thrown ; the traveller
leaped from his chaise to her assistance , in short, they became
man and wife. His con]ugal partner brought him 1 500Z. With
this, and his income as an actor, they lived in frugal comfort,
and in a select circle of acquaintance, distinct from his
theatrical brethren, from whose society, it was occasionally
remarked, he kept somewhat superciliously aloof, till he with-
drew from his scenic labours in 1796 He was then appointed
to the situation of a barrack - master by his fiiend Mr.
Wyndham, who was at that period Secretary at War Some
years before his death a large fortune was bequeathed to him
by his relative. Sir William Hensley, a baronet, and an East
India director ITndazzled by riches, Hensley enjoyed his
affluence with the liberal moderation of a perfect gentleman in
the vale of existence, without children, and desirous only of a
competent provision for his amiable and excellent wife. He
declared that his superfluous wealth came too late His
widow, who survived him some years, is now no moie. In the
earliest part of his theatrical life he lodged in the south-east
Oovent Garden Piazzas, which have been burnt down , and he
there saved his life by jumping out of his bedroom window, on
the first floor, during the conflagration. Prom the foregoing
descnption of his starch manners, who would suppose that he
was, m his youth, "an idle, flashy, young dog,^^ and that
Garrick had nicknamed him Roaring Hob of the Garden !

CHAPTER XI.

MRS SIDDONS

Ak event tliat should he noted maiked the close of Garrick’s
connection wibh the theatre. This was the fiist appeai'ance
of Mrs Siddons m London. The incidents that led to this
event were dramatic and interesting Some aristocratic
pations had reported to Mi Gainck that there was a clever
young actress at Cheltenham, and he despatched Mr Kang to
reports

It would seem that he was not satisfied with the repoit of
his agent King, hut in the month of August, 1776, sent
down a second emissary to make further observation.* This
was the Rev Mr Bate, a clergyman of stiong intelligence,
vigoious style, and of a strength of muscle still more vigorous,
for he could hox and hruise and fight duels, write slashing ”
articles, and was, besides, well up in stage matters. His letters
containing the report of his little expedition are to he found
in the Biitish Museum, and are singularly interesting and
vivacious

After travelling along some of the cursedest cross-roads
in the kingdom,” the clergyman arrived at Worcester, and
there saw the theatrical heroine ” for the first time, playing
Rosalind He stood at the side wings of the theatre, which
he desciihed as a sort of barn, the stage about three yards

* I abridge tbis sketch from my Lives of the Kembles ”

MBS. SIDD02JS.

307

wide Yet under these disadvantages lie was enchanted with her
playing She was^ indeed, very close upon her confinement,
but he pronounced that, making all allowance for her con-
dition, she had ordinal ily a veiy fine figure ^^Her face was
one of the most strikingly beautiful for stage effect that I ever
beheld, but I shall surpiise you more when I assuie you that
these are nothing to her action and stage deportment, which
are remarkably pleasing and chaiactenstic At fiist it seemed
to him that her voice was rather dissonant,’' and somewhat
giating lu the ummpassioned scenes," but this wore away.
^^She is a veiy good breeches figure Nay, he should not be
surpiised if, fiom her ease of figure and manner, she made the
proudest she of either house tremble in genteel comedy Nay,
beware yourself, great little man, for she plays Hamlet to the
satisfaction of the Worcestershiie critics^’’ He then wrote a
note to her husband, whom he describes as a damned
rascally player but a civil fellow, intimating his business,
for he had heard that some Oovent Garden emissaiies were
hanging about, and it was necessary to strike at once After
the faice was over they both waited on him He found them
very humble, and willing ^^to leave all and eveiything to
Mr Garrick.’’^ She was diffident She had been on the stage
from her very cradle, which, though it suipiised me, gave
me the highest opinion of her judgment she had contracted
no strolling habits The company was to return to Worcester
for the race week, when he was to see her again.

Two days later, namely, on August 19th, the agent wrote
again The husband, Siddons, who seems to have been almost
servile in his humility, only desired to be employed in any
manner He was moie toleiable as an actor than Mi Bate
had thought at first It was evident, in short, that he wished
to be ^Hhiown in^^ with his wife ^^You can station him,’’
says Mr Bate, so as to satisfy the man without burdening
the property ” But a suspicion of the negotiation had been
whispered, the manager was surly at his players being decoyed
aVfay, and refused to let her appear, but Mr. Bate was
determined to persevere

When Ml Bate saw the pair again, all was ananged, but
they submitted to Mr. Gainck some very modest requests,
which they hoped, he would be gracious enough to grant.

308 A NEW HISTOBiY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

1st As they were ready to attend Inm at any moment^ would
he not be pleased to allow them something to subsist upon
when they came to London previous to their appeal ance.
2nd Whether he had any objection to employ Imn m any
situation where he is likely to be useful Mr Bate urged
warmly that their requests should be gianted^ he says,

it would be unjust not to remark one circumstance in favour
of them both I mean the universal good chai acter they have
'possessed heie foy 'many yeaos on account of their public as well
as pnvate conduct in life^^ They were anxious also to know
when it was his wish that they should attend him/^ I
beg you/^ urged their warm advocate, Mr, Bate, to be very
particular as to this, that they may arrange their little matters
accordingly/^ She was also ^^the most extraordinary quick
study imaginable

Siddons appears through the transaction as a rather poor
and obsequious creature He writes piteously to Bate about the
delay He had considered the matter concluded, and had
given the manager notice, so that if anything had happened
and we had not been engaged it would have proved a very
unlucky circumstance. However, sir, your letter hath lemoved
my apprehensions and set me right again. I am very agree-
able that Mrs Siddons should be brought to bed in the
country — this delicate matter having figured much in the
negotiation, for Mr Garrick wished to open the season with
his new actress A month later her husband was able to write
to Mr Garrick himself the joyful news You will be surprised
when I tell you she was biought to bed, having been taken ill
unexpectedly when performing on the stage, and early next;
mommg produced me a fine girl. Both are doing well He
begs to be allowed to stay a little while, ^^for Mis Siddons
counting so much longer than he had expected, he had left
some private little matter undone Most gratefully does he
acknowledge Mr. GarricVs goodness, for he had just seen
Mr. Dunwoody and had made bold to take 20Z, which he
hopes will meet his approbation/^ Unluckily, these delays
prevented her appearance until the season had begun. The
last letter in this interesting series is a dismal one. She had
appeared at Drury Lane, and had failed. The news then spread
of the change of proprietorship, and on February 9th, 1776,

MES SIDDONS

809

Mr Siddons writes a timorous appeal to Mr Garrick “I
make bold/^ lie wrote, ^^to trouble you witk an epistle in
whiob I venture to solicit your friendship and endeavours for
our continuance at Drury Lane. We have been doubly un-
fortunate at our onset in the theatre 1st, That particular
circumstances prevented us from joining it at the proper time,
and thereby rendered it impossible for us to be employed in
the business of the season^ when oico utility might have been
more observed I cannot find Mr Siddons’s name in any of
the bills of the performances ^ so he must have been cast for
some character scarcely using above that of supernumerary.

2nd That we are going to be deprived of you as manager^
and going to be left to those who perhaps may not have an
opportunity this winter of observing us There is a world of
anxiety and suspense under these few lines. All they asked
was a small sum, ^^no more than what I think we may decently
subsist on, and appear with some credit to the profession —
that IS, 31 for Mrs Siddons, and 21 for myself This, I flatter
myself, tve shall loth be found worthy of the first year , after
that we shall wish to rise as oiii ments shall demand ”

It is likely that Garrick had a personal regai d for the new
actress, and, had he remained, would ceitainly have brought
her forward, if only to keep the other acti esses in check But
it IS clear from Bates’s report, ^^that she would make the
proudest of them tremble in genteel comedy,” that a miscal-
culation had been made , and, looking through the characters
allotted to her, the same mistake continued As the phrase
goes, she had not a chance She even appeared dressed up as a
boy ^ Nearly all the critics were unfavourable It was scarcely
wonderful, therefore, that the new management considered she
had no particular claim to be retained on their establishment,
and she returned to the provinces and to the Bath Theatre

Before Gariick thought of retiring, a very important
remodelling and alteration of Druiy Lane Theatre took place.
A handsome front was built, designed by the Adamses in their
peculiar classical style. Within, the boxes were made ^^far

310 A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

more spaciouSj^^ tlie ceiling was teiglitened some twelve feet ^
Tlie style of decoration was not m the best taste

The pillars supporting the boxes and galleries are inlaid
with plate-glass on a crimson-and-green ground, also orna-
mented with some well-fancied paintings. The boxes are lined
with crimson-spotted paper, which, added to a light festooned
curtain, affords great i ehef New gilt chandeliers are fixed on to
side pillars, and four fashionable chandeliers are placed in front.

With all this the building was in a state of decay;, being, in
fact, the old Drury Lane of Wien patched and repaired, and
in a very few years it was found necessary to take it down
altogether To make these alteiations Garrick piudently
detei mined not to spend anything out of the piofits, but to
charge the establishment itself with the cost He accoidingly
raised a sum of 12,0001 by subscription, of which it was said
the alterations would take 3000Z, his share of the balance being
4500Z , which he probably wanted for his new house in the
Adelphi.

This admirable man died after a short retirement It
would be difficult to do justice to his chaiacter and accomplish-
ments, apait even from his professional gifts In all his letteis
there is a stiain of sincerity, pleasant wit, good-humour, and
sagacity that is extraordinary His taste was admirable
— shown not in the lavish outlay of the rich connoisseur, but
with an unpretending certainty that rarely failed him f Even
this is shown m the choice of his two houses, both charming;
that in the Adelphi on one of the most effective sites in London
His pictures, books, all show the same taste He was certainly
one of the most remarkable men the country has produced.

^ There are two large and finely-engraved prints representing the intorior
and exterior In the latter a carnage is seen passing, at the mndow of which
IS seen Mr Garrick’s face The arrangement inside suggests that of the old
Haymarket

^ Beside the writer, covering a sofa, is a piece of gay chintz, which was
a portion of his window curtains at Hampton

MBS SIDDONS

311

Mrs Garrick long survived^ becoming almost a centenarian.
There are those now alive who may have seen her Quaint
stories and odd letters occasionally reminded the public of her
existence Her will was not a little eccentric It seems to
clear up the debated point as to the source whence her fortune
came^ for she mentions a bond of 6000Z. given by the Duke
of Devonshire, on which he regularly paid the interest

f £rj0b the Jifth.

FEOM G-AEEIOK’S EBTIEEMENT TO THE DATS OE HUGE

THEATEES.

VOIi. 11.

Y

CHAPTER I

SHBEIDAK, MANAGES.

The question now debated was, wbo was to come forward as
tlie purcliaser ? When this became known, a singular offer
was made to Mr. Garrick by Almacks, viz to secure him
10,000Z. or ^^farm him^^ for that amount, if he would continue
on the stage. It was curious, indeed, that he had never
thought of working that great mine — of late years found
so profitable to managers — viz the provinces. Since his first
appearance, some thirty years before, he had played but
two seasons out of London, and never since he had become a
manager, except m recitations at Stratford With actors
of less degree the custom had been coming in of playing
at Bath and Dublin, and occasionally at some of the better
houses on ‘^the Circuit Mr. Garrick, however, felt that he
had made sufficient money.

He was at first anxious that George Oolman should take
his place, but the latter preferred the lighter duty of adminis-
tering a small theatre Colman would have made an ad-
mirable manager, and would have carried on the hereditary
traditions of management. Under his rule there would have
been no disorders, no neglect of duty, no financial embar-
rassment He would have kept the whole together, and have
transferred it, perhaps, to a worthy successor.

316 A NEW HISTOBY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

At this time, a clever young Irishman from Bath, Richardi
Brinsley Shendan, had become celebrated by a romantic adven-
ture, as well as by the successful production of a farcical comedy
and a lively opera. He had mariied the celebrated Miss Linley,
and had to win her, or rather secure her, by a desperate
series of duels, and his plays had extraordmaiy success He
was, moreover, the son of a well-known actor. He succeeded
in finding two friends to join him in offering to buy the share
of Drury Lane that was for sale, viz his father-in-law,
Dr. Eord, and Mr. Ewart, a City merchant 35,000Z. was
the sum to be found, of which he himself was to supply
10,000Z This he must have obtained after his usual fashion,
VIZ by borrowing Mr Ewart presently withdrew, and left
the scheme to the three utterly inexperienced adventurers,
who proposed to succeed one of the most skilful and judicious
of English managers. There were great difficulties to be
got over before the tiansaction was concluded. The truth
was, Garrick had a high opinion of the clever young man
whose pieces had drawn crowds to the other house, and
declared that if he was complimented as an Atlas, he left
a young Hercules behind him to bear the weight of the
administration But Garrick, though he had a paitner, was
more deeply interested in the theatre than was supposed,
he held a mortgage on Lacy^s share of no less a sum than
22,000Z., his whole interest thus covering 57,000Z out of the
70,000Z. at which it was valued An octogenarian of the
Sheridan family, who has written a life of his relative, states
that Garrick also advanced Sheridan 8500Z , leaving him to
find only 1600Z., taking his bond for the remainder, to be
defrayed out of the current profits, and which, it is said, was
so discharged during the first seasons.

The curious part of this transaction was the young
Sheridan^s eagerness to secure the whole interest in the

SHEBIDAl^, MANAGEE

317

tEeatre. He was anxious to buy out Lacy and take his
mortgage, so as to have tbe wEole contract The contract was
perfected on June 24tE, 1776, and the three ignorant and inex-
perienced managers started on their course And yet, such was
Sheridan^s abilities and opportunities, that, had he shown
prudence in money matters, the adventure might have proved
successful But almost at once the partners began to dispute.
An agreement had been made with Lacy that no new partner
should take the place of another without the approbation of
the rest. It was discovered that Lacy had aU but concluded
a sale with his friends, Thompson and Langford. This they
opposed, and the dispute ran so high that the theatre had to
be shut up for two nights — ominous sign of disorder — and
Lacy at last had to address the pubhc in the papers, declaring
that he believed he was acting within his rights, but would
yield to oblige his partners.^^

In 1778, however, Sheridan succeeded in getting rid of
Lacy for the large sum of over 45,000Z , a piece of reckless
improvidence, and clearly more than his share was worth.
But he was bent on gratifying his humour Not content with
this, he bought out Ford for 17,000Z, and thus was left with
his unlucky father-in-law, Linley, as virtually sole proprietor.
Annuities, which after a time ceased to be paid, were the
means by which they paid for their acquisition. Early signs of
the want of judicious management soon appeared. It should
be mentioned that a practice had latterly obtained that must,
had it gone on longer, have seriously compromised the disci-
pline of the theatre — that of advancing money to the
improvident players, who had got largely into the books of
the proprietors. This was an element in the contract with
Sheridan, who agreed to take over these obligations “Mr.
Shuter (urged Kmg in a grumbling letter to Garrick), at my
salary nominally, had 100 guineas given him for signing

318 A NEW HISTOBT OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

the article, and some hundreds lent wIiicIl the manager, I
believe, never eaqpects to be repaid Suffer me to say, I never
have disputed your authority, never have feigned illness, or
troubled you to rescue me from bailiffs or creditors

One of the results naturally was a scandal before the
audience. One night in April, 1772, Weston was to appear.
He owed money to the theatre, so the managers impounded
the proceeds of his benefit ” On this the player sent them word
that he could not appear, as he had been arrested by the bailiffs.
He begged, however, that no excuse of sickness would be
made for him, as it would be a falsehood. Willing to gratify
this praiseworthy and conscientious scruple, a general apology
was made, when the unworthy actor started up in front of the
upper gallery, wheie he was seated with a bailiff, and declared
at was untrue — that he was there, and ready to play. This
undignified proceeding led to a riotous inteiruption that lasted
an hour , at the end of which he was permitted to play, the
managers having to satisfy the officer. These disorders were-
bequeathed to the new managers, and added to the dissensions
among the proprietors, leading to confusion behind the scenes and
disrespect from the audience. Shendan soon began to neglect
rehearsals and supervision, and the actors, already inclmed to*
take airs of independence, were not slow to take advantage of
his carelessness. A single scene one night at Christmas, as
the phrase runs, speaks volumes, ^^Much Ado about Nothing*'
was m the bills. At noon Henderson sent word to the theatre
that he could not play. They hurried down to Covent Garden
and obtained ^^the loan^^ of Lewis to supply his place. Soon
after arrived a message from Parsons to the effect that he
could not play. Moody was put into his part , and then, later,
Vernon announced that he would not play. The prompter
thought himself very lucky in being able to stop all these
serious gaps so happily/^ Hut during the first act h© found
that one La Mash, who did Borachio, had neither come

SHEBIBAIT, MAFAGBB,

319

to his duty nor sent any excuse! There was no one to
take the part, and they had to cut out his scenes altgether.
There was a wretched house. The School for Scandal was
down for the next night, and again Parsons could not
play No wonder the harassed prompter said they were
in a di*eadful situation The worst symptom was the inferior
player venturing on such liberties* What a change from
the discipline of the late naanager, under whose rule no one
dared to have offered such disrespect to the public. Their
only hope was in the pantomime, got up with gorgeous scenery,
and the famous Grimaldi as clown. He was the very life and
soul of it ; but though galleries and pit were full, the boxes
were thin.

Mr Garrick died on January 20 th, 1779, and as his friend
Johnson said justly, eclipsed the gaiety of nations and
impoverished the public stock of harmless pleasure.*’^ His
retirement had been a series of ovations, during which he had
presented most of his favourite characters Friends came even
from Pans to see him During his twenty-nine years^ manage-
ment he IS said to have accumulated a sum of 140,OOOZ., and
living at all times at ^^no mean expense Taking him for all
in all, he was, as we have said, a truly remarkable man,
distinguished as an author, actor, manager, business man, and
a most agreeable and recherche member of society 5 the best
of husbands, a just, honourable man, liberal m important
things, for which he prepared himself by being careful (or
penurious, his enemies said) in trifles.

Within the'‘next few years the ranks of the drama were
filled up by Miss Farren, Edwin, and Henderson, who all
appeared at the Haymarket. But Garriok^s loss was soon to
be repaired, and two stars were to aiise in the persons of
Mrs Siddons* and her brother, John Kemble. She appeared

* It has often been noted bow inefEeotual mere description as in giving an
idea of acting. The onl7 approach is in good and sincere imitation. My

320 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGK

on October 12tli, 1782, tb© Drury Lane management being
lucby enough to secure her services. Her brother made his
appearance the following year, on September SOfch. The
extraordinary success of this accomplished pair was as assured
as it was lasting It may be doubted if any female tragedian
from any country has exceeded her in force and effect.

Another highly important addition to the stage was Mrs.
Jordan, the unsurpassed hoyden of the stage, whose gaiety
and sense of rustic fun was found irresistible. This, as is well
known, was not her name, which was Francis, but one given
her by the eccentric Tat© Wilkinson.

The year 1781 witnessed the production, at Oovent Garden,
of the wonderful and truly admirable comedy, The Man of
the World — ^wonderful because the work of so old a man as
Macklin then was. It was the powerful work of a powerful
mind, which triumphed over many obstacles. The terrible
picture of a Scot alone was certain to raise up opposition, but
I venture to say that a more masterly, fresh, and well-drawn
character does not exist. '^This play,^^ says the author of
the biography, which m respect to originality, force of mind,
and well-adapted satire, may dispute the palm with any
dramatic piece that has appeared within the compass of half a
century, was received with the loudest acclamations in Ireland
about seventeen years before, under the title of ^ The True-

friend, Mr Fladgate, well known as the friend of the Kemble family and ot all
that was dramatic in his day— himself an excellent and experienced critic —
was not long since alluding to one of her famous bursts in “ The Gamester,*^
where, at the end, Beverley being charged with his villanies, she exclaims,
“ No It was not so ’ He could never,’* etc This has often been described,
but seemed to convey little idea But catching enthnsiasm. from his recollec-
tions, her friend conveyed an admiiable picture of the scene She staifced
from the ground, where she had been kneeling, there was an agitated struggle
of words contending with each other, accompanied by a fi antic gesture to
supply their want Then, with a hysterical sort of passionate remonstrance, as
though calling on all the world to hear her, she seemed with a piteous
vehemence to plead for him “ N-o-o (this a sort of shriek), it was not ^ ** etc.

SHERIDAlir, ma:^ager

321

bom ScotcbmaD/ in three acts. In London, however, an
ofScial leave for its exhibition was lepeatedly denied ; and our
audiences are indebted for the pleasure they have since derived
fiom it to the death of Mr Capell, the late sub-licenser of the
Theatres Eoyal. This scrupulous petty placeman had long
preferred what he conceived to be the bias of a Court to the
innocent gratification of the public. His sagacity on a former
occasion, also, should not be forgotten. He once prohibited
the rehearsal of an opera because he thought the situation of
Pharnaces too nearly resembled that of the Young Pretender,
nor, till a minister of state interposed his authority, would our
guardian eunuch of the stage indulge the lovers of music with
this favourite entertainment. Provident dulness could have dug
no deeper grave for its literary remains. The wonderful old
man (Macklin) performed the leading character himself with
infinite spirit and breath

CHAPTER II

THE REBUILDING OE DRUBT LANE THEATRE.

The montli o£ Jane, 1787^ was to witness the first stirrings o£
serious levolt against the principle o£ the patent monopoly,
and therefoie marks an era of great importance. Though the
attempt was defeated for the time, it was certainly a sub-
stantial one, and brought the question, to use a well-known
phiase, within the domain of practical politics Mr John
Palmer had conceived the idea of erecting a new playhouse,
and assuming the most extraordinary and baseless hypothesis
that was ever used to support a speculation, obtained the
money and pioceeded to build his house He selected the
quarters wheie the old Groodman^s Fields Theatre stood, being
Wellclose Squaie He chose to take for gi anted that some
magistrates of this district being willing to grant him a licence,
and the governor of the Tower giving his^ sanction as from
one of the loyal palaces, his authority was complete. The
Royalty Theatre accordingly rose from its foundation, to the
sati&facfcion of the inhabitants and taverns, and houses of call
were soon established about it The foundations were laid
with great pomp, processions, etc , and the whole was neaily
completed and ready for opening when the patentees unmasked
their batteries, and a notice came from the Drury Lane, and

THE HEBXJUiDIHa OF DETJRY LAHE THEATRE. 323

Ooveut Garden^ and Haymartet patentees declaring they would
suffer no infringement of the patent Palmer had actually
engaged Garrick^ Johnstone^ Mrs Wells^ and others^ and had
made preparations for a regular dramatic season. Appeals
were made to the public^ the usual ^^case^^ was drawn up; but
the patentees were resolute^ and the new manager had the
mortification of being obliged to open his theatre for one night
for a chanty, so as to escape the penalties of the law, and of
closing it immediately. He had to content himself with a
speech. Nothing more rash or unbusinesslike could be pointed
out even in the annals of theatrical management The case
seemed hard ; but, before venturing on such a step, he should
have made sure of his ground Counsels opinion — ^that of
the well-known Mr, Bearcroft — was taken as to playing
burlettas, farces, etc. Nothing could be shorter or more
simple than the response

I am of opinion that no licence under the 26 Geo II.
c 86, can authorise the performance of any entertainments
of the kind described in the query, and falling within the
meaning of the 10 Geo., and consequently that the per-
formers in such entertainments will be liable to be proceeded
against under the last-mentioned Statute and that of 17 Geo. II
I am aware that the practice has been otherwise, but I have
always thought it illegal. Edwakd Bearoroit

Lincoln^s Inn, June 29th, 1787.

A simple reference to the Act of Geo. 11. is clear even to a
layman

No person shall for hire, gain, or reward, act, represent, or
perform, or cause to be acted, etc etc any interlude, tragedy,
comedy, jpZay, farce, or other entertavnment of the stage, except
under a patent from the Crown, or a hcence from the Lord
Chamberlain, as by said Act is provided.

To the layman of good common sense nothing can be
clearer than the meaning of an entertainment of the stage,*^

324 A ISTEW HISTORY OE THE EISTGLISH STAGE.

wliicli distingmsTies all witli a dramatic element from a mere
show Thus, dancing, as an exhibition of steps and movement,
IS tolerated, but a ballet, in which a story is told by dancing,
would be '^an entertainment of the stage Some indulgence
seems to have been shown Palmer, and he was permitted to
give a course of musical pieces, pantomimes, etc. But the
struggle was carried on in an intermittent manner until the
patentees showed they were not to be trifled with, and were
determined to assert their rights He was summoned before
the justices, who were determined to commit him to piison if
he did not pioduce his authority. This chaiacteristic scene
followed

The parties met in an upstaiis room of the tavern, and
Palmer^s dexterity did not desert him. He assured them that
^^the papeis were at his lodgings, but a street’s length off,
and if they would allow him, he would go himself for them,
and be back in two minutes To this there was a ready
assent on the part of the magistracy. Palmer treated the
party with his usual bow of humility, turned up the whites of
his eyes, and bid God Almighty bless them for their kind-
ness J He retired in haste, and shut the door after him ,
but, as the key was outside of it, he very gently turned it in
the look, and, without the slightest noise in withdrawing it, put
the key into his pocket. The party waited with growing im-
patience, and time had elapsed beyond all reasonable limit.
The bell was rung. The waiter knocked at the door, and it
was then found that they had been imprisoned,

A more serious and oppressive step was then taken, when
Palmer and Bannister were actually committed ^^as rogues
and vagabonds,” and imprisoned for fourteen days. An appli-
cation was made to his patrons, two friendly justices of the
Tower Hamlets, who discharged him. But they, in their
turn, were brought before the superior courts; for in May,
1789, Mr. Justice Ashurst, giving them a reprimand,

THE BEBUILDIHa OE DEUEY LAHE THEATEE. 325

sentenced both to a fine o£ lOOZ or imprisonment^ besides
being superseded These harsh acts were effectual^ though
an appeal was made to Parliament by way of petition^ which,
curious to say, was stoutly opposed by Pox. This stroke
was followed up by laying an information against Delpini, the
clown, who had broken silence in the pantomime and utteied
two words Eoast beef ’ Still at this time another
insidious attack was made on the patent, and Sadler^s Wells
obtained leave to play a certain kind of entertainment.
There were other pioceedings later in the case of the Royal
Circus, in 1791, when Palmer and Bannister were again
convicted, and the conviction aflSirmed upon appeal.

Prom the appendix to the ''Account of the Proceedings
before the Privy Council on a petition for a third theatre in
1810, I take the following, from which it will be seen that
one of the Vanburgh family was still alive

On the faith of this secuiity — and it seemed a large and
encouraging one — Mr Taylor had been induced to enter on his
operatic speculation The extiaordmary recklessness which
attended this lyrical venture was never better illustrated than
by the story which he himself unfolded to the Privy Council
in 1810.

The petition of William Taylor, Esq , pioprietor of the
Ehng^s Theatre, or opera house, in the Haymarket, humbly
sheweth, that your petitioner having learnt from the public
prints that an application had been made to your Majesty for
the erection of a third theatre, in addition to those of Covent
Garden and Diury Lane, conceives it to be an act of justice to
himself and the other persons interested in the King^s Theatie
or opera house, to state the grounds of his objections to the
establishment of such theatre. That your petitioner became
possessed twenty-nine years ago of the property of the said
opera house, which was unfortunately consumed by fire in the
month of June, 1789 That your petitioner rebuilt the present
theatre in the following year (1790), and having provided the

326 A NEW HISTOBT OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

usual company of singers and dancers, lie made tlie customary
application to tlie Lord Okamberlain for tke usual licence to
carry on operas, wkick, however, was refused, upon the pretext
that a licence for the same purpose had been previously
granted to a Mr. O'Eeilly, who had then recently fitted up the
Pantheon, in Oxford Street, as a theatre j in consequence of
which refusal, and being unable to open the present opera
house for Italian operas, your petitioner lost above 9700Z. in
the winter of the year 1791

That the said Mr O^Eeilly having, within the same year,
contracted debts at the Pantheon Theatre to the amount of
30,000? , and having, m consequence thereof, left the kingdom,
a negotiation was set on foot with those piincipally concerned
with Mr O’Eeilly m that enterpiise, who were His Grace the
late Duke of Bedford, and the then Lord Chamberlain (the
Marquis of Salisbury), for the restoiation not only of the
former licence, but even for a patent and permanent exclusive
right to carry on Italian operas at the said theatre in the
Haymarket, which was brought to a conclusion in the autumn
of 1791, under the auspicious mediation of His Eoyal High-
ness the Prince of Wales, the said late Duke of Bedford, and
the said Lord Chamberlain, who respectively sanctioned the
same with the signature of their names thereto, and which
was called, ^^An Outline for a General Opera Arrangement,^^
in which also the interests of the said two theatres in Oovent
Garden and in Drury Lane were comprehended

That by the said arrangement it was (among other things)
stipulated and agreed, that your petitioner should take upon
himself, and secure upon the said Haymarket Theatre, by
yearly payments, for the term of fifteen years, the said sum of
30,000? of debts so contracted at the said Pantheon ^Theatre,
and which sum your petitioner fully paid and satisfied in the
year 1796, without waiting for the stipulated instalments; and
it was likewise by the said arrangement, which was considered
as a recognition of the said three theatres, and the monopoly
thereto belonging, that in order to extinguish the risk of the
establishment of a third English playhouse, that the proprietors
of Drury Lane Theatre and your petitioner should give the
proprietors of Oovent Garden Theatre a compensation, to put
at rest what was called the dormant or third patent ; and it

THE EEBTJILDma OF DBHRT LAITE THEATRE 327

was accordingly agreed that the proprietors of Drury Lane
Theatre should pay in respect of such compensation the sum of
ll^SOOi!. (and which they did actually pay), and that your
petitioner should pay 5000Z ^ other part thereof, to he charged
upon the said theatre in the Haymarket, which was agreed to

That although it was not in the said theatiical arrange-
ment expressly stipulated that no third theatre should ever he
established, it was certainly understood at the time hy your
petitioner, and hy all the said other proprietors of the two
other theatres, that if ever such thiidtheatie should become
necessary, it would be established under the authority of the
said dormant patent, and for the benefit of all the said
proprietors and your petitioner, in the proportion of their
interests therein, otherwise your petitioner never would have
agreed to pay either the said 30,000Z (which he always
considered as a great hardship, not to call it an act of
injustice), or the said other sum of 5000Z towards the said
compensation

That your petitioner was the more induced to place
implicit reliance upon the good faith of the said arrangement,
sanctioned as it was by personages of such exalted rank and
consideration, inasmuch as the whole of it was done subject
to the King^s approbation, and which His Majesty was
graciously pleased to bestow upon it , and upon the faith of
which, and of the understanding of it now stated by your
petitioner, he thinks no less than 260,OOOZ. have been em-
barked m the said two theatres of Drury Lane and that of
the said Opera House in the Haymarket, and all of which
your petitioner is fully persuaded will be most materially
injured, etc

In December, 1790, one of the most remaikable and effective
comedians of the English stage made his appearance at Drury
Lane, Joseph Munden This performer foi bieadth and humour
has not been exceeded on the English stage, and he was more-
over one of the few that, arriving from the provinces to town,
made a conspicuous and striking success He came after Edwin,
who had been much cherished. His mind, as Mr. Boaden says,
seemed teeming with every surprise of comic humour, which

828 A HEW HISTOEY OF THE EHGLTSH STAGE

his features expressed by an incessant diversity of playful action,
and his utterance conveyed in an articulation of much force
and neatness.

Six years later, in 1796, came Dowton, another comedian
of excellence. Nearly at the same time appeared Blliston, the
future comedian of the rival theatre

'^Little Quick, the retired Diocletian of Islington, with a
squeak like a Bartholomew fiddle,** could have boasted to
many even now living that he had been the original Tony
Lumpkin and Bob Acres. He left the stage in 1796, taking
with him, it IS said, 10,000Z He lived in Hornsey (or WilFs)
Row, Islington, and was fond of joining in public-house con-
vivial meetings He was often to be seen in his peculiar dress,
a blue coat and ba<=!ket buttons, a white waistcoat, black smalls,
silk stockings, and silver buckles He lived to an advanced
age, dying in 1831, more than eighty years old

Within two years two theatiical monuments associated with
many interesting memories were to be lost to the city These
were the old Opera-house of Vanbrugh and Drury Lane Theatre.

On the 17th of June, 1789 (says Boaden in a picturesque
account), I was on my return from a visit, crossing the Park
from Buckingham Gate to Stable Yard, St, Jameses, when this
most tremendous conflagration burst upon me, it seemed to
make the long lines of trees in the Mall wave in an atmosphere
of file As I approached the spot, the consternation appeared
to settle nearly in the eyes — ^little motion in the crowd ,• all gaze,
all wonder The fire had commenced in the flies, and burst
through the roof in a column of confirmed fierceness. In the
theatre, about ten o^clock, they had been rehearsing a ballet,
and the first alarm was occasioned by the sparks of fire which
fell upon the heads of the dancers Madame Ravelli was with
difficulty saved by one of the firemen ; Madame Guimard lost
a slipper, but escaped in safety. Little or nothing was saved
of the property in the theatre, and a perhaps moderate estimate
computed the loss at 70,000L

THE EEBUILDIHG OE DEUEY LANE THEATEE 329

This was the theatre hiiilt by Sir John Yanbrugh^ and
finished in 1706 It was a grand palatial structuie^ and bore
the usual evidences of Vanbrugh^ not as a poet, but architect ;
heaviness and dignity, pro]ection and force

A descendant of Sir John Vanbrugh enjoyed 800Z per year
from this pioperty , and the late King, in consideration for this
gentleman, had interfered to prevent a new opera-house from
being elected on another spot The night was so still and
calm that the contiguous houses in Pall Mall were saved I
saw Mr Burke standing close to the scene, seemingly delight-
ing in the energy and skill with which the Bridewell Boys
served their first-rate engine in the place of honour, that is, of
greatest peril. At Carlton House the proper vigilance was
used to avert danger from the showeis of fire, which were
falling through the night The supply of water could have
been but scanty, for at twelve o^clock of the following day
the fire was at the back of the opera-house, burning like a
furnace It was, at the time, considered to be the work of
some diabolical malice , and a death-bed confession was once
repeated to me that revealed the name of the incendiary.

This serious loss of the opera-house nearly shipwrecked
the fashionable attractions of the town. The same writer
looks back fondly to those old glories of Yanbrugh^s house
He tells us how Cramer led, and Sir John Gallim engaged, the
artistes, including that famous Marchesi whose male soprano
would not be tolerated now, but enchanted all then.

He says .

The high life assembled in our opera-house is itself the
most captivating of all sights. In a multitude of instances,
the predecessors of our reigning beauties were of a grander
form, and their deportment was fashioned in a finer school.
The exterior was at once stately and gracious I remember
when we waited, as for a triumph, to see the Devonshires or
the Eutlands walk down the opera stairs to their carriages.

The year 1792 witnessed the production of a good
comedy by one of the most painstaking hterary drudges

z

VOL II

330 A NEW HISTOBY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

and fertile playwrights of his day, Thomas Holcroft,
He was horn in a wretched court off Leicester Square,
and was afterwards employed in racing stables at New-
market. His father was a shoemaker, and his son also
adopted this trade and followed it till he was five-and-
twenty He then took to the stage, and was encouraged by
Foote and Macklin ; but making a success with a piece called
Duplicity,^^ he gave up acting and became a dramatist, with
which he joined the then dangerous calling o£ a Hadical
Translations from the French was his mode of action, but he
thoroughly knew the stage Of his pieces, thirty or forty in
number, only one keeps the stage, viz “ The Eoad to Euin,^^
though there are others of meiit, such as ^'The Deserted
Daughter” But his translated works show the most pio-
digious industry — the writings of Voltaire, of Frederick the
Great, etc. being all rendered by him into English in a very
short time He voluntarily surrendered to take his trial, in
1794, on a chaige of treason and sedition, but was passed
over A most remaikable man altogether

Sheridan, whose wonderful feats in the way of conjuring
up sums of money might be thought to have found a limit,
was now preparing a very bold and magnificent scheme He
had already begun to neglect his theatre He would come
occasionally, full of wine, behind the scenes, ask some of his
own actors, ^^Who was that on the staged and say, Never
let him play again Kemble had become his stage-manager
in 1789, in succession to the veteran King, who issued a pro-
clamation to the public explaining why he retired This
judicious step at last restored order, but the actor was to find
that he had embarked on a troubled undertaking, owing to the
extraordinary uncertainty and loose habits of his principal
Many reasons, no doubt, concurred to influence Sheridan to
take the step he was meditating, that of erecting an entirely

THE EEBUILDIHG- OP DEURY LAHE THEATRE 331

new theatre The old one was certainly past repairs or
alterations , bat there can be little doubt that the real motive
was the certainty of vast receipts to be gamed by a huge
theatre having double the capacity of the old one. It is
but fair^ however, to remember that the enterprise had vast
powers of expansion, and the value of the patents was steadily
growing As he said himself, he might point to the increased
prices he had had to pay for his successive purchases. He had
bought GarricFs share when the whole was valued at 70,OOOZ.,
Laoy^s at the rate of 94,000Z , Hordes at 86,000Z Then con-
sideration was to be had for the development of London players,
who were increasing rapidly Higher salaries were being
demanded, which could only be met by the receipts from
increased accommodation The mode of seven or eight rows
of the pit being laid into boxes,^^ an encroachment now of
ordinary and permanent occurrence, according to the attraction
of the piece for the heau monde^ was then attempted on a rare
benefit-night — such as was done at Mrs Siddons^s last benefit,
when 412 Z was taken at the doors. It will be seen later at
what a heavy sacrifice these more sordid advantages weie to be
obtained, and that the result was the killing of the dramatic
goose to secure a few golden eggs.

The adroit Sheridan, who, whenever his own interests were
concerned, was active, knew how to use his political interest in
favour of his theatre To this, no doubt, was owing Pox^s
opposition to the Royalty , and we now find him contriving to
foitify still more his already secure patent When the money
came to be raised for the new house, it was naturally asked
^^What had become of K%lhgr6W^s patent which, indeed,
had not been heard of for nearly a century. Covent Gaideii^
it was assumed, was being carried on under Davenant^s patent,
Drury Lane under the again and again renewed Steele^s
patent What was to prevent some bold speculator securing

z 2

332 A HEW HISTORY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

the unused Kilhgrew document and starting a rival venture ^
Inquiries were made and counsels^ opinions taken It was
ascertained that the patent still remained in the hands of
EicVs successors^ either unused or used in connection with
the other However^ to make all sure^ and fortify the Drury
Lane security now to be offered, it was resolved to purchase it
A curious bargain was made The Prince of Wales was much
interested in the new opera-house, and it was proposed that, if
a monopoly were assured to it of opera {Drury Lane craving
the right to play opera), the King, Prince of Wales, and Lord
Chamberlain would all join in an arrangement that would
assure the theatre its monopoly, ^^and that no countenance
would be given to another rival attempt Accordingly, the
enormous sum of 60 , 000 Z was to be paid for this defunct
patent * But of this later.

The complicated questions involved in patent rights seemed
to grow more numerous with time One of the most ouiious
was this very one concerning the fate and position of a
disused patent As the Crown had begun to issue licences —
finding this a convenient and handy engine of control — it
seemed to be inclined to set aside the original patents as
making the holdeis too independent, and giving them powers
too large. But after the two patents had been united, or
rather the two companies under the patent, and these again
had broken up, the system of issuing licences came into
vogue. After a lapse of years, the question was, whether
the holder of the patent was playing under a single patent,
and whether the other was dormant or merged This was
an unfortunate point, as on it depended the possibility of
starting a new undertaking at any moment. The point
lemamed in suspense for many years, but it would appear
that at one period Rich was actually conducting two theatres.
Covent Garden and Lmcoln^s Inn Fields, under the two

THE EEBUILDIHG- OF DBUEY LAHE THEATEE. 333

patents. In 1793 the eminent counsel Hargrave brought his
clear intellect to bear on the question, and put the matter in a
most convincing light. It was urged, he said, by other
counsel, that there had been actually and uninterrupted joint
exeicise o£ the two patents for one hundred and ten years, and
that after so long a union, the powers of the patent to KiUi-
grew are not exercisable separately."’^ But the truth was, this
dormancy was not nearly so long, there having been a separate
exercise of the two patents for nearly ten years, viz from
1732 to 1741, during which time Eich kept two theatres open
^‘'without the least interruption or question."” In a second
opinion, given later, he goes deeper into the matter. He says,
very justly, ^^that the matter of the Orown^s power is delicate,
that it has been the custom of counsel to avoid looking further
than to the derivation of titles from the original patentees,”
In this view nothing could be pronounced sounder Counsel
had approved of the titles in 1767, when Mr. Harris and his
partners bought of Rich and his devisees So again in 1784,
when it was investigated for the satisfaction of Mr Harris’s
tontine annuitants.” Further, no interference or opposition
of the Crown could be anticipated, owing to the plan for trans-
ferring the dormant patent being approved of in a marked
way This was on the occasion of the opera-house arrange-
ment” in this very year, 1793, when this transfer of the
dormant patent to Drury Lane was formally sanctioned by
the Prince of Wales, being actually signed by him according
to the sixth article, by which Mr Hams is to be compensated
for the dormant patent The Haymarket Theatre was to con-
tribute 5000Z , and all further expense was to be borne by
Drury Lane Theatre on receiving this (dormant) patent The
King’s approbation is shown by a letter ot the Lord Chamber-
lain’s, dated February 24th last. In this, the opera-house
trustees, state the arrangement had been made before His

m A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENOLISH STAGE

Majesty disapproving of it. This negative measure is, it
seems, the usual mode of signifying the royal approbation.

Outline for a general opera arrangement proposed by
Messrs. Sheridan, Holloway, and William Sheldon, with the
approbation of His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, His
Grace the Duke of Bedford, and the Marquis of Salisbury,

1st Mr Vanburgh^s interest in the Hay market Theatre^
and property to be purchased of him, and to be vested in
trustees, upon the trusts hereinafter mentioned, and subject
thereto, in trust for those friends of Mr. Taylor who purchased
Mr Vanburgh^s interest, who may at the same moment agree
with Mr Taylor for the granting him a new lease, at the
expiration of the present one, either for the same rent as is
now paid, or for any other rent as shall be agreed upon
between them for the whole of Mr Vanburgh's present term
under the Crown, as also for any new term that he may obtain.

2nd Mr Vanburgh to use and exert his utmost interest
with the Crown for the obtaining such an addition to the
subsisting lease as will make up fifty years.

3rd. The consideration to Mr. Vanburgh to be 12,000?
to be paid down, and an annuity of 400Z to be reserved to
Mr Vanburgh during his life, and also to Mrs Vanburgh
during her hfe, if she survive him, and (except the Crown
rent) to be the first charge upon the property, unless other-
ways to his satisfaction provided for, and the 3500?, insurance
money to be released to him. Mr Vanbuigh remitting to
Mr Taylor all arrears of rent now due to him, with a reserva-
tion of all such right of admission, and of silver tickets, during
this present term under the Crown, as he at present is entitled
to, as also to Mr, De Burgh of his silver ticket, and if a
future term is obtained by Mr. Vanburgh^s interest, the same
privilege to be contmued.

4th All parties to unite in an application to the Ciown
for a patent for operas only, under the control of the Lord
Chamberlain, for the term of twenty-one years, to bo obtained
in such name as shall most facilitate the obtaining the same^^
and by the patentee to be assigned to the trustees of the
whole property upon the trusts hereinafter mentioned, and the
patent subject thereto, to be the property of Mr. Taylor.

THE EEBTJILDIHG OF DEXJET LAKE THEATEE 335

5th Any expense attending the obtaining of a patent
from the Crown to be borne by the Haymarket Theatre

6th It haying been agreed, on all sides that Mr Harris
should derive a just compensation, in respect to his dormant
patent, from the Haymarket property, at the same time the
vaiious and necessary charges laid on this theatre, rendering it
very desirable that the arbitrator should add as little as
possible to those expenses, it is agreed that the Haymarket
Theatre shall be charged only with an annuity of 250Z redeem-
able for 5000Z. towards that compensation, and that all
fuither expenses attending the settlement with Mr Harris
shall be borne by the proprietors of Drury Lane Theatre, upon
the said dormant patent being annexed inseparably to that
theatre, with the consent of the Duke of Bedford.

7th In this case it is to be understood as a part of the
settlement, hona fide between the three theatres, that the
patents of Drury Lane and Oovent Garden shall never be
exeicised for the performance of Italian operas, and that the
Haymarket Theatre and patent shall be for Italian operas
only with such occasional aid as has been usual from balls and
masquerades

8th The management to be given up to the diiection of
five noblemen, to be named by His Eoyal Highness the Prince
of Wales, the Dube of Bedford, and the Marquis of Salis-
buiy, with no other restriction than that the expense shall
not exceed the sum of 21,000Z annually, including rent
and taxes

9th The subscription to be raised to 25 gmneas for fifty
operas only The performances to commence so as to
have sixty performances in the season, unless prevented by
extraordinary circumstances.

10th The appropriation of the forty-one boxes to remain
as settled in the deed with Gallini, but the consideration given
for those boxes to be proved to the trustees, and if an ade-
quate consideration has not been given, the deficiency to be
made good, or the box to be given up to the trustees, on
the repayment of the consideration given And all other
demands upon either property to be submitted to investiga-
tion and proof before they can be admitted as charges upon
the trust

336 A NEW HISTOBY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

llth. Tlie proprietors o£ these forty-one boxes to be tieated
with, for the purchase of a further term m them^ so as to laise
a sum of WfiOOl or 20,000Z, one moiety of which to be
applied m payment of the Pantheon ci editors^ and the other
to those of the Haymarket

12th The annual suiplus, above the sum allowed for the
expenditure of the establishment^ to be disposed of in the
following manner

13th 1500Z, per annum to be applied to pay off Gallmi
the sum of 8500^ secured to him by the deed above-
mentioned

14th lOOOZ per annum to finish the buildings according to
the plan begun by Mr Taylor^ but with the approbation of
the five directing noblemen

15th Any sum, not exceeding 4000Z yeaily, to be divided
between the Pantheon and Haymaiket creditois

16th An annuity of 200Z to be given, during life, to such
persons lately luteiested m the Pantheon Theatre as the Duke
of Bedford and Marquis of Salisbury shall approve of

I7tli A proper trust to be created, and three trustees to
be named for these purposes, and all leceipts aiidpiofits of
the theatie, and property in the Haymaiket, to be paid to tho
account of the trustees, and at the bankers appioved of, and
sub 3 ect to the purposes of the trust

18th Mr Taylor to have the fiee use of the house for
three nights in the course of the season, not mterfei ing with
the opera nights

19 th Mr Taylor to lecommend a hanker and receivers,
subject to the approbation of the five directing noblemen, who
must have the power of removing them at their discretion, and
of taking such security as they judge proper

20th Mr Taylor to he at liberty to insure the theatre and
property from fire, to the full value of the same, provided that
the policies be lodged with the banker to the fund in the
names of the trustees ^ and that within thiity days previous
to the expiration of any policy he do produce and lodge with
the banker of the fund the new policies in the names of the
trustees, in failure of which the trustees are immediately to
insure. The expense, m either case, to come out of the

THE EEBXJILDIHa OF DEUET LAKE THEATEE 337

general fund, into wEicE all money recovered on any policies
IS to be paid

21st Any surplus, beyond the several yearly sums and
expenses above piovided for, to be paid to Mr Taylor

22nd The Pantheon Opera debts are estimated by Mr
William Sheldon at 40,OOOZ, but supposed to be reduceable to
80,000Z Let them be taken on the Haymarket property at
30,000Z, -without interest or farther detail If they do not
exceed that sum, then any profits which may arise this season
fiom the Pantheon to go in reduction of it But if they do
exceed 30,000J, then the piofits to be applied in addition to
that sum

23rd Twenty-four boxes to be allotted in the first, second,
and third tieis in the Haymarket Theatre for the disposition
of the Duke of Bedford and the Marquis of Salisbury, and
for the accommodation of their friends, subscribers to the
Pantheon, who now have no boxes in the Haymarket Theatre.

24th The Pantheon to be dismantled and restored as soon
as the Haymarket Theatre is fit

25th The Theatre Eoyal in Drury Lane to be rebuilt with
all possible expedition, but if not completed so as to admit the
re-establishment of the opera at the Haymarket Theatre at
the beginning of the next season, then the profits of the
Pantheon to be continued to be applied in discharge of the
Pantheon debts, and the rent of the Haymarket paid by the
propiietors of Drury Lane Theatre to be applied in reducing
those of the Haymarket Theatre

26th The three trustees to be named, one by Messrs.
Sheridan and Holloway, on the part of the Haymarket , one
by Mr. Sheldon, on the part of the Pantheon , and one by the
five directing noblemen

27th To be referred to John Maddocks, Esq, and Arthur
Piggott, Esq, to prepaie a proper deed for the carrying the
above outline into execution, and in which deed are to be
inserted all such clauses, provisions, and declarations as in
their opinion shall be proper or necessary for effecting the
trusts proposed, and securing the rights and interests of the
several parties, accoiding to the true spirit and meaning of
this outline and of the arbitiators

838 A NEW HISTOEY OE TKE3 ENGLISH STAGE

28tli Messrs. Haddocks and Piggotfc^ with such assistance
as they shall appoint^ to receive and investigate the proofs of
the titles to the boxes and the claims on the trust.

29th The whole property, after all the objects of the trust
are satisfied, to be Mr Taylor^s

SOth. The trust to be for ten years, but if the objects of the
trust should not be satisfied in that term, then to be renewed.

31st Every part of this arrangement to be subject to His
Majesty^s approbation.

We recommend the above outline as a just and
honourable settlement for all parties

Signed by R B Sheridan,

Thos Holloway
Wm Sheldon
We approve of the same.

Signed by George P

Bedford
Salisbury

It was evident, in short, that his opinion was that the
patents were a mode of monopoly scarcely arguable at law, but
which it would be difiicult to overturn. But this was to turn
up once more, some forty years later, under Mr, Bunn^s reign

The rumours (he says) which had been at vaiious times
afloat respecting the existence of Killigrew^s patent, some
asserting that it perished in the fire of 1809 which destroyed
Drury Lane Theatre, others that it was in pawn with certain
bankers for certain suijis of gold, others that it never existed
at all, were at the beginning of this season (1837-38) silenced
altogether. The running patent of George III, granted in
1816, had expired the beginning of September this year, 1837.
When informed that I opened the Theatre Royal Drury Lane
under Killigrew’s patent, I was called upon to produce it. I
might have refused, because it was the bounden duty of the
Lord Chamberlain's people to know of its disposition , but to
prevent any confusion I appiised the gentleman who waited
wpon me that its chase from the Oovent Garden propnetois
was completed on the Vlth of December^ 1813, by the payment

THE BEBIJILDIHG OE DBUEY LAHE THEATEE 33^

of a balance of 9561Z 195. hd. due to them thereon ^ and
producing a tin box entrusted to me for the occasion^ by that
valuable index to all such matters^ Mr Dunn^ I displayed
before the wondering eyes of the disappoinbed official the
document itself^ bearing the signature of “ Howard/^ with the
appendage of his lordship^s ponderous seal of power

Not the least difficulty was found by the manager m
obtaining the sum necessary, V12; 150,000? * On June 4th,
1791, the last performance was given, and then the demolition
commenced The loss of so old a memorial was to be lamented,
associated as it was with so many glories, and with the names
of the Bettertons, Booths, Bracegiidles, Porters, Grarncks, and
other famous personages.

While the theatre was rebuilding the company removed to
the new opera-house in the Haymarket The opera company
had for a time moved to another temple of amusement, f con-
ceived in a stately, sumptuous, and architectural spirit Now-
adays our places of amusement lack this bold conception and
fine lines, and the poveity of thought displayed in the new
theatres is overlaid with gilding and gaudmess By the
strangest fatality this monument was to be destroyed in
January, 1792, also by fire, and, as another theatre at Man-
chester was consumed by the same element, it was scarcely
surprising that incendiarism was suggested as the cause.

The new theatre was opened on April 21st, 1794 It was
an imposing-looking structure as regards its size, the length
of its fagades^ and the long rows of windows, offering rather a
bariacklike aspect. It fronted Russell Street, down which at

* There were 1500 shares of 1001 The terms are stated in the particulars
of a new Keuter’s Share, sold by auction on October 23rd, 1794 Ifc was for
100 years, paying to the holdei 2s 6d for eveiy theatrical or musical per-
formance, and free admission into any part of the house, behind the scenes
alone excepted

t The splendour of the Pantheon is shown in a senes of noble plates
published at the time The architect was Mr Wyatt

540 A IvTEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

present runs tte long colonnade o£ its successor It also Ead
a colonnade^ while above its fagade a gieat cential block was
elevated, and above all lose conspicuously a soit of pedestal or
pillar crowned by a statue of Apollo with bis lyie, wbicb could
be seen from a great distance — thus anticipating the mode in
which the new French Opera-house is now adorned It was,
indeed, a vast pile it was about double the capacity in size
and profit of Garrick^s theatre The dimensions were length,
fiom east to west, 320 ft , bieadth, from north to south, 155 ft ,
width of roof, 118 ft. The new Drury Lane was also planned
with the same view, and calculated for an audience valued at
700Z I quote from Lives of the Kembles

The architect was Mr Holland, who had recently lemodelled
Oovent Garden Theatie For vastness of size, at least, it was
consideied almost the finest theatie m Europe There was a
surpnsing loftiness about the interior, though the malicious
likened it to a great biidcage, owing to the fashion in which
the dividing lines of the boxes converged at the centi e of the
ceiling. There were tiers upon tiers of boxes, with gieat
galleries and a spacious amphitheatre near the loof, all
arranged with a novel solidity of construction. This might
be thought satisfactory, but such advantages were dearly pur-
chased by the cei tain destruction of fine acting and proscription
of fine dramas, for on this occasion was inaugurated the
principle that the performers and performance must suit the
theatre, while the theatre itself must suit speculation In
Garnck^s Drury Lane Theatre the two rows of boxes were
open galleries rather than boxes, and the amphitheatre, or two-
shilling gallery, was brought boldly down into the centre of
the second row of boxes He knew how to value the encourage-
ment of these trusty supporters ; for the rude but intelligent
appreciation of a vast mass of human beings, who could see,
and hear, and understand what was going on, was most valuable
to the actors Every whisper, every glance could be under-
stood in those regions, and this feeling influenced the finest
exertions of the players In the old theatre, too, the arrange-

THE EEBUILDIHG OE DEHEY LAKE THEATEE 341

ment that brought the stage-doors aud the foremost wings
well forward into the house, was most advantageous for the
exit of the actor, giving him scope for some of the finest
bits of playing, for what was called ^‘'springing off with a
glance at the pit,^^ by which defiant and hateful villains could
retire from view with true dramatic force , whereas the greater
space to be tiavelled over under the new arrangement obliged
them to have lecomse to stage artifices to sustain the effect.
In the new houses the gallery audience was sent away aloft,
and put far back, where they had, at most, but distant glimpses,
and could hear nothing that was not declaimed loudly But
their position was favourable compared to what it was to be
later In the other parts of the houses many could neither
see nor hear without exertion, and they also exhibited a new
and objectionable feature the private boxes suited for opera,
but not for dramatic performances.

Macbeth was selected for this inauguration, which took
place on Mai oh 12th, 1794 To reassure the audience, a huge
iron curtain was let down and ostentatiously struck with a
hammer When this screen was raised, a lake of real water
was discovered, on which a man rowed about in a boat, with a
cascade tumbling down behind While Miss Farren was put
forward to deliver a boastful challenge to the powers of fiie

In ample reservoirs our firm reliance.

Whose sti earns set conflagrations at defiance

The great audience was delighted. Enormous exertions had
been made to set off Shakespeare's play , even the great actress
herself wrote to her friend Lady Harcourt I am told that the
banquet is a thing to go and see of itself You cannot conceive
what I feel at the prospect of playing there Up to this day
such a sentiment had never been heaid, people might go to
see a Gairick and Pritchard, or Siddons and Kemble, in
Macbeth and Lady Macbeth , but no stage-manager had yet
dreamed of elaborating a banquet-scene,^^ the cups, meats,
guests, etc , so as to make it a marked feature. Almost on
the fiist night she must have discovered that her powers were
subjected to altogether new conditions Soon a change m her
style, and that of all the greater players, was noticed, her
acting became larger and coarser to aid distant effects } her

342 A ISTEW HISTOBY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

gestures and poses became bolder and more tbeatncal^ and of
course less spontaneous There was. to be a long faiewell to
those delicate graces, to those electrical changes of expression,
now to be lostj in a great measure, on the bulk of the audience

Sir Walter Scott recalled this house and its later appear-
ance, when it was often half empty, as a huge Dom-Daniel
— ^for this was incident to temples of this great size, that some
great attraction was always necessary to bring nearly four
thousand 'people together. And it is certainly not a little
curious to contrast a later declaration of Mrs Siddons, made
after due experience, with her pleasant anticipation written to
Lady Harcourt. Dowton used to tell how she said to him *
I am glad to see you at Drury Lane, but you are come to act
in a wilderness of a place , and God knows, if I had not made
my reputation in a small theatre, I never should have done it

On his taking oflSce as stage-manager, Mr Kemble insti-
tuted reform m what might be a trivial matter, but which was,
m truth, one of signal importance. The reader may smile to
learn that this was m the arrangement of the names in the
bills Up to this time these had been set out in hierarchical
order, according to the rank and position of the performer,
which, as may be imagined, gave rise to endless heartbmmngs
and difficulties for the prompters Compromises in the shape
of half-a-dozen patterns of type, and these more or less dis-
played,^^ as it IS called, with other devices, had to be contrived
to soothe the susceptibilities of the performers.

It was honourable to be placed at the top, and more honour-
able to be placed at bottom with an And before the name
of the character , other situations m the bill took rank in the
eye of the performer according to the order m which they
followed the first name. Kemblo entirely destroyed all dis-
tinction of rank in the bill by placing the characters just as
they may happen to be printed in the books of the play, or
according to the rank ol supposed character, placing always

* ** Lives of tLe Kembles,** voL i p. 310.

THE EEBUILDIHG OE DETJET LAHE THEATEE 343

the highest character, as a king, goyernor, etc at the top, and
servants, etc at the bottom

As publicity and reputation make the actor’s fortune, he
cannot be blamed for attaching importance to what affects these
things a good deal Nor was Kemble unprepared to enforce
discipline by sterner methods Actors, though jealous and
fierce m quarrel, have but seldom gone out ” with each other
It will be a surprise to learn that the leading instance is that
of the grave and almost pedantic Kemble, who, having affronted
one of the Mr Aikens — brethren in mediocrity,” as Elia styles
them — expressed his willingness to give that gentleman satis-
faction On reaching the ground, Mr Kemble required Mr.
Aiken to fire first, as he was angered , and when it was pro-
posed they should fire together, he declined, saying ^ He had
come out for Mr. Aiken’s satisfaction ’ Aiken became un-
nerved at conduct so hoiiouiable, and raising his pistol three
times to take aim, trembled, and dropped it Kemble at length
lost his patience, and exclaimed ^ For God’s sake ^ Mr.
Aiken, do you intend to fire to-day? ’ Aiken then fixed, and
missed him Kemble discharged his pistol in the air, and
asked him if he was satisfied ? ^ Perfectly.’ ^ Then I hope

there is an end and forgiveness to the matter,’ said he, ex-
tending his hand.” The only other 'rencontre that is, I think,
recorded, is the one between Mr. George Garrick and Baddeley,
for which the beautiful Mrs Baddeley was accountable

In the year 1794 died that excellent dramatist and clever
manager, Oolman the elder In 1785 he was at Bath, when he
was seized with paralysis, and his son and the faithful Jewell,
treasurer of the Haymarket — the same who attended Foote at
Dover in his last moments — ^hurried to his side His mind
now began to fail, and though it has been often repeated that
he sank into idiotcy, his son curiously refutes this notion,
raying that his malady took the shape of an extraordinary

SU A NEW HISTOET OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

activity — his brain teeming with dramatic images, plots, and
characters of plays in grotesque After two or three years
the malady became fixed. His son, a gay, somewhat extra-
vagant youth, little more than twenty years old, had to under-
take the management of a London theatre, which he carried
on with energy and success. His father was a man of good
birth and high connections, being son of the English minister
at Florence and also cousin to Lord Pulteney, of whose
enormous fortune he had for many years reasonable expecta-
tions. In this he was disappointed, but received a moderate
annuity *

While Drury Lane was rebuilding, Mr Harris was also
seized with a desire for enlarging his theatre 25,000Z were
laid out in this extensive remodelling, also undertaken with a
view to gam room An entirely new face,^^ with a portico,
was added He made a small increase in the prices, but two
of his reforms were ominous of discontent He abolished
the shilling gallery and fixed the pit ticket at threo-and-six-
pence. Hiots were the consequence, continued for seveial
nights, until a promise was given to restore the shilling
gallery, which was done There were other and more famous
riots to follow t

The sensation of the year 1796 was the singular Ireland
forgery — the production of Vortigern — the forged Shakes-
pearean play On the delivery of the lines the imposture

* The slendei personal memoirs left hj George Colman the younger are
the most interesting and vivacious of their kind — ^fall of what approaches wit,
and written in a vein of uncontrollable spirits They, however, go no farther
than the death of his father

t Bisordeis of this sort are almost a necessary incident to patents When
Mr Bancroft recently abolished the pit at the Haymarket, it was urged, and
justly, that it was his own propel ty, with which he could deal as he
thought fit, and with which no one was entitled to intexfere, save by not ex-
tending then support But the patent theatre being a monopoly, excluding the
public from resorting to another place, it incurs thus certain obligations to the
pubho, which the latter reminds it of m this rough, rude way.

THE EEBUILDIlSra OF DEUEY LAHE THEATEE 345

’was at once detected It is said that Sheridan was of this
opinion all thiough^ while Kemble was willing to produce it.
In 1797, the retirement of Miss Farren and her brilliant
marriage was the talk of the town In 1798 occuired a very
tragic business, which has become one of the legends of the
stage It has been often repeated, that, during a prosperous
run of ^^The Stranger, an acDor, John Palmer, after repeating
There is another and a better world,^^ had suddenly fallen and
expired This has been found in many books, but the tiuth
appears to be the following, said to have been furnished by
Whitfield, who performed Baron Steinfort, and was with him
on the stage when the event took place

A few minutes before he was called to go on for the scene
in which he died, I asked him how he was. He answered, Very
poorly He was more collected and correct through the whole,
m regard to the words and the business, but moie energetic
and loud in the description of his false friend than when he
performed the part before His voice seemed to crack, and at
the end of the speech he struck his head with great force, then
crossed me from my right hand to my left The two shoit
speeches he uttered after were given rather faintly, but not
more so than appeared perfectly consonant to the situation of
the character After I put the question, Wliy did you not
lieep your children with you ^ they would have amused you %n
many a dreary hotir/^ he turned and tottered, dying in a few
moments *

* This ghastly subject of deaths on the stage or of mortal illness has often
exercised the labours of the dramatic historian The list, as might be expected,
IS a full one It includes Smith, in 1696, seized with apoplexy Betterton, in
1710, who had driven in his gout to appear for his benefit, and died in three
days Bond, m 1735, died while blessing his children (theatrically) Cashel
and Spiller were seized with apoplexy In 1757, Peg Woffington was struck by
paralysis In 1759, Patterson, when performing the Duke in ^'Measuie for
Measure,** and saying, ‘‘ Reason thus with life,** dropped into Moody* s arms and
expired In 1776, an actress, Mrs Jefferson, looking on at a rehearsal, fell into
the same aotor*s arms and expired In 1769, Holland received such a shook from
finding he had spoken to one who had come from a small-pox patient and, it is
added, from seeing a large rat run across the stage, that he died in a fortnight
Foote was seized with paralysis in 1777, while on the stage. In 1784, West

A

VOL. II.

sm A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENOLISH STAGE

Some years earlier, and almost on tlie stage, occurred the
death of a good old actor of Garrick's coijps This was
Baddeley. A provision of his curious will, a childish attempt
to preserve his memory, reminds us of him eveiy Christmas,
and his Twelfth Cake is regularly cut in Drury Lane green-
room* The purport of the document is as follows It was
dated November, 1794 •

His house at Moulsey and his house at New Store Street,
with his plate, furniture, etc he gave to his faithful friend and
companion, Mrs Catherine Strickland, generally called and
known by the name of Mrs Baddeley, for her life The house
and premises at Moulsey to be used as an asylum for decayed
actors and actresses, and when the net produce amounted to
850Z per annum, pensions were to be given Especial care was
to be taken to have the words " Baddeley's Asylum in the front
of the house Garrick^s head and his thcatincal poitiaits, etc
were to bo placed in the asylum The pensioners to give small
sums to the poor, %n oi tier to conshtii^te themselves i especiahle
the eyes of their neighbours/^ The pensioners also to spend 206
on the 20th of April in every year, in honour of the birfch of the
founder. A t eg alia to he woi n. One hundred pounds Three per

Digges was also thus seized, in Dublin, while rehearsing with Mis SiUdons In
179i, Baddeley, when cliessed for Mosos, was taken ill and sboifcly aftoi died
In 1799, Chiokmgham burst a blood-vessel whilo performing Osman m The
Castle Spectre ” In 1817, Canning, in playing “ Jane Shore/* at the words, “ May
such befall me at my latest horn,** fell down and expired In 1826, Fulham, in
Dublin, after an encoie of his song, was going to the gieen room, when he fell
dead In 1833, Kean fell into his son*s arms when playing Othello, saying, ‘‘ I
am dying ** In 1850, Mrs Glover took her last benefit, but was almost unconscious,
and died three days later In 1858, Harley, while playing Bottom, was seized by
paralysis and died m a few hours, his last strange words being fiom his part,
“I ha\e an exposition of sleep come upon me ** In 1861, James Bland died at
the stage door of the Strand Theatre In 1863, the facetious James Eogeis, after
Struggling through his pait in a burlesque at the St James’s Theatre, died in
an aimchair, holding his wife’s hand, and quoting a line of IMi E L Blanchaid,

** The little raffle is ovei ” In 1865, Miss Ootteiell was seized with a fit at
rehearsal and expired In 1872, Henry Bariott, aftoi playing m a faice, oxpiied
in a cab Such are the touching incidents conueotod with this tragic subject.
It will be seen that only three or foui have actually died on the stage I take
tK-'se fiom Mi Sanders’s MS penes me. Dr Doran and Mr, Dutton Cook have
also treated the same subject

THE BEBUILDIHG OE DEUBT LANE THEATEE 347

Cent Consolidated Bank Annuities, wkicli produce 3 per cent.,
IS left to purchase a twelfth cake, with wine and punch, which
the ladies and gentlemen of Drury Lane are requested to
partake of every Twelfth Night in the great green-room His
executors to publish every year his letter, which appeared in
^^The Geneial Advertiser,^ ^ April 20th, 1790, respecting the
disagieement with his unhappy wife, to prevent the world from
looking on his conduct in the villainous point of view as set
forth in certain books and pamphlets

This fantastic bequest has inspired no respect for his
memory, and the players who partake of his cake and wine
look on the matter as an incident from an opem louffe *

* At the latest celebration, the manager overwhelmed the modest fare of
the aotoi in champagne and a splendid supper, and thus received all the
honours of the night

2 A 2

CHAPTER III.

THE DRAMATISTS,

We must now turn to survey tlie interesting subject of tlie
autborsliip tliat existed in tliese days, and wHicli the mo-
nopoly of the two houses had the merit of developing One
of the most singular puzzles of stage management is to find
persons of the calibre of John Kemble and his gifted sister
cheerfully sanctioning the degradation of the theatre to base
uses — opening the house to dogs and horses, and ranting
melodramas ^ These things were certainly not known till he
became stage-director at Drury Lane in the year 1788, At
the beginning of the century it is well known how the taste
of the town turned in the direction of the gloomy horrors of
the Grerman stage, a morbid influence which for many years
infected even comedies This was, in truth, but that taste of
novelty which invariably affects the audiences grown tired of
the old dishes, however good. At all times, however, there
has been a decided taste for the sad and gloomy , and it is not
improbable that in our day we shall see a revival of the drama
of pathos and horror This taste seized on the public mind,
and was effectively ridiculed in Oanning^s burlesque of ^^The
Rovers

Another feature of the time was the rage for new pieces,

THE DRAMATISTS.

349

wliicli seemed to be brought out without intermission This
IS shown very distinctly by the career of Thomas Dibdin, son
of the more famous Charles, and whose pen was in great
demand at the theatres We find that this facile and once
popular writer contributed a vast number of pieces to the
stage within a peiiod of about twenty years — a really suc-
cessful diama running for twenty or thirty nights, besides
being levived as occasion served

Nothing shows Sheridan^s genius more than the mode in
which he could adapt himself to different tastes, and when he
put on the stage fustian pieces, he brought all his skill
and tact to make them thoroughly successful. Three remark-
able plays of this kind brought him good fortune — ^^The
Castle Spectre, The Stranger, and Pizarro,^^ all of which
Kemble condescended to set off by his talents. The first,
produced in 1797, ran some sixty nights, and has kept the stage
until recently , it was the woik of the young Matthew, or
^^Monk^^ Lewis, and came at the most opportune moment
to fill the exhausted treasury There is an air of mystery
over the whole which was then new What, for instance,
could be more stirring than the scene of an escape, in which
the actor has to climb a wall and jump through a window
while his black guard plays at dice ’

Kemble had to climb from a sofa to a gothic window, and,
being alarmed by his black guards, he has to fall fiom the
height flat again at his length upon the said sofa, and seem
asleep, as they had before seen him This he did as boldly
and suddenly as if he had been shot

A more famous play, and one of a certain power, is " The
Stranger, translated and adapted by Thompson, and put into
Sheridan^s hands by Mr. Griubb, whom the great angler had
now hooked into his concern, a good-natured person, suffi-
ciently humble not to be too busy, and he was allowed

350 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

occasionally to advance an opinion, but more frequently Ins
money,” *

Kemble bad always a bankering after shows, proces-
sions, etc, which he at first was anxious to display in the
Shakespearean plays, but was presently attracted by the
German drama But there can be little doubt that he was
led by the serious necessity of making the thing pay ”

^^The Iron Chest may be considered the foremost of
these gloomy efforts, succeeded very shortly by others The
Iron Chest” contained the very essence of all the German
horrors, being founded, as is well known, on Godwin’s
Caleb Williams” Arbitrary literalness was never carried
farther than in tins piece, where a murder done years before
is presumed to be registered, as it were, by a bloody knife
and cloth ” hidden in a trunk * — a trunk kept in the library ^
This damning piece of evidence is supposed to convict the
murderer. Yet the whole makes a powerful play Mr Kemble
was suffering from depression, or a severe cold, and merely
walked through the part with sepulchral gravity The play was
condemned, and the author published it with a well-known
hitter preface, m which he assailed the actor with all his
power of sarcasm This amusing piece was suppressed, and
the author appealing later to the public with a new actor —
Elliston — not only reversed the verdict hut established the
piece as a stock-play ” — an author’s real trmmph.f

** Pizarro,” however, was more of what is called a money”
success — a dashing spectacular piece, full of claptrap decla-
mation and shows. A literal translation had been made from

* Thompson translated and fitted many German plays, but one M Scbmk
claimed to have sent a version of tbe German piece a year and a half before
his rival

t It has been lately revived by Mr Irvmg in a very complete way, he him-
self personating the leading part, leheving its weight with those lomantio
touches he knows so well how to impart The result was efiective and intei osting

THE DEAMATISTS,

3151

tte German and put before tbe manager, who frequently
worked some of his own speeches into Eolla^s address to
the soldiers/^ which were actually recognised by Mr Pitt,
During one season it was said to have brought 1 S^OOOZ into
the treasury^ while, more wonderful still, 30,000 copies were
sold for reading ^

After this came a further descent. Two pieces at the
two great theatres ushered in the degradation of converting
the stages into menageiies * In 1811, Bluebeard was given
at Drury Lane, with real horses/^ which was followed by
Timour the Tartar,^^ often since produced at the circus — ^its
fitting locale.

No wonder that Ellis ton said later

Posture-masters must be found (for the minor theatres),
who should writhe themselves into more contortions than
Mr. Pack was employed to do on the stage of the Theatre
Eoyal, Drury Lane, dogs must be found who should bark
more eloquently than the Dog of Montargis was engaged
to do on the stage of the Theatre Eoyal, Oovent Gaiden,
children must be found to support the dignity of the minor
stage as effectually as the dignity of the great national
concern of Drury Lane was supported, lately, by the little
girl who personated Eichard the Third ; horses must be
found to prance, if possible, more classically than those that
sustained the regular and national drama of Timour
the Tartar Poor Mr Astley (the original proprietor of the
Olympic) used to exclaim pathetically, Why do they take my
horses ^ I never tried to engage Mrs. Siddons

But if we turn to comedy, a strength and freshness was
shown, with a variety and invention in character and dialogue,
which contrasts strongly with the weakness of our days. There
was exaggeration — farcical almost — but the result was most
entertaining, and the humour and even wit displayed make
the plays themselves entertammg and readable. It is difficult

A HEW* HISTOBY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

do2

to account for these capricious tui'iis and cliauges in the
prospcxity of the drama At the present moment, in 1883,
the stage is flourishing, but English comedy and tragedy
hardly exist The Biitish playwriter now swims on corks as
it were, living and thriving ” on wholesale adaptations from
the French Yet within living memory there was a period
when there was a senes of admirable comedies, full of vivacity,
sterling and enduring, provided by writers like Morton,
Eeynolds, Holcroft, Inchbald, and others of inferior mark,
who yet wrote in the same school. It is not, however, diffi-
cult to account for this. Though good plays engender good
actors much more than do actors engender good plays, still
the fact of there being great theatres with great companies,
such as exist now in France, must be a stimulant to authors
The good old comedies aie remarkable for the abundance
of character, exaggerated and extravagant, while oven in
the more sober and measured classical pieces, such as The
School for Scandal/^ there is an over-emphasis m every
utterance, which is charged with a significance that would not
be found m real life, because there it would be distiibuted
over a longer period of time The fault of modern play-
writers IS this colourlessness of much of the dialogue and
incident The stage itself is an exaggeration, and must
be an abridgment or abstract of life Hazlitt, in answer
to the question, Why are there so few modern comedies ^
explams that it is because the ground has been gone over and
the topics exhausted " There is now,^^ he says, a uniformity
of manners and a sameness of character, owing to the ad-
Tance of civilisation and locomotion, which leaves little to be
treated. All the professions are kept apart, and move in their
own narrow and eccentric grooves.-^^ But this seems fallacious,
and assumes that the interest of comedy turned on mere
accidents. On the contraiy, the essentials of characters are

THE EEAMATISTS.

35S

eternal, and will be found the same in every generation —
misers, spendthrifts, coquettes, coxcombs will ever flouiish
The bourgeois genhlhomme^ and his diverting attempts to get into
society, may be seen in the city every day. Moie true, however,
IS his lemark that the old-fashioned dress and stilted com tiers
of compliment have deprived us of a dramatic element.

Nothingexcites oui dramatic envy so much as the tide of good
authorship which prevailed at both houses during this period, and
enriched the stage with so many works that, if not excellent,
had the all-redeeming virtues of spirit and character. With so
many authors and so many pieces it is curious to see what
vaiiety was secured, and what quaint andeccentiic beings were
devised, and yet not too far fetched to suit the performers of
each house Colman, Oumbeiland, O’Keefe, Eeynolds, Thomas,
Morton, Holcroft, Tobin, made a wonderful ciicle, of whom
Morton certainly has left the deepest impression on us About
these comedies, with all their exaggerations, there is a pleasant
humour, and in the days when they were perfoimed by the
persons for whom they wei e written they must have been enter-
taining to a degree. Speed the Plough and Cure for the
Heaitache’’ are written in the true spirit of comedy, and
the humours are most diverting Oolman’s ^^Poor Gentleman’^
IS quite as good, Dr Ollapod and Sir Eobert Bramble
being as satisfactory as anything in comedy. Of the broad
farce writers, Kenney’s ^^Eaising the Wind” is amusing But,
in truth, there are in the list of farces some of the most genuine
fun and frolic, beside which a Palais Eoyal ” farce seems of
thin flavour, and some of the boisterous rollicking pieces by
little known authors are conceived in a spirit of riotous mirth.
The situations and embarrassments are of the most genuine
kind, with an air of probability too.

Much of this speciousness was owing to the state of society,
when the absence of railways and telegraphs, and the time

3^4 A NEW HISTOBY OP THE ENGLISH STAGE

taken for communication, tkrew people mucli more on their own
resources than now, and rendered extrication difficult Thus a
stranger at an inn, in a ludicrous difficulty, would have to wait
a week pei'haps before he could be identified or aided. So with
characters, the same absence of communication favoured the
development of eccentricities, people remaining in the same dis-
trict all their lives There was, however, in these ^^palmy days
a vast deal of adaptation and translation, the work, as now, of
professional adapters We are also surprised at the number of
new and varied chaiacters presented in such pieces as ^^The
Road to Ruin,^^ ^^Cure for the Heartache, ‘■^Agreeable Sur-
prise, and many more of the same type — each play almost
abounds with characters Here again was the advantage of a
great, duly organised house, for cliai'acters had to be found
for a large number of capable performeis, who acted and
re-acted and played up to each other, “ Reynolds, says
Mr. Boaden, contrasting two of these clever men, and adding
some interesting details as to the payment of authors, ^^no
sooner had ascertained the profits of one play than he turned
to the composition of another, which was ‘no less matoiial to
him'' than the former And, in fact, in tho space of twenty-
four years he produced six-and-twenty pieces, of which only
four were indifferently received Moiton had more of the
artist about him than his gay friend, and with better plots laid
his interest deeper in the passions , he never would admit him-
self to be excited by anything but the hope of gam It was no
uncommon thing for him to receive lOOOl for a comedy

One of the most popular plays on the stage, and which
interests every audience, is ^‘The Honeymoon," though at
every turn it suggests *^‘The Taming of the Shrew." The
author, Tobin, is known but by this one piece, and a rather
melancholy interest attaches to its history He was a solicitor
who deserted his profession to write pieces, which he was offer-

THE DRAMATISTS

3^5

mg to every theatre, one, indeed, ^^The Faro Table/^ was
accepted at Drury Lane and forgotten The Honeymoon
was later offered, and similaily overlooked. Many and
many a time,^^ says Mr. Kelly, have I accompanied him to
Mr Richardson^s house to get back his comedy, but he never
succeeded , excuse upon excuse was made, and no wonder, for,
in fact, they were ignorant that it was in their possession, and
after repeated calls, waiting jobs, and denials, the unfortunate
author gave up the piece as lost He was presently attacked
with consumption, and was about embarking at Cork when he
died. This was in November, 1804 Little over a month
later, Wroughton, who was then stage-manager of Drury
Lane, having nothing in the shape of a new comedy to
produce, rummaged the prompter’s-room, where many plays
lay neglected, it may be, never looked at Luckily, one of
the first that came to hand was ^^The Honeymoon,^^ which
Wroughton took home to read, and on his own judgment, and
at his own risk, had it copied, cast, and put into rehearsal
Thus did chance bring to light one of the most popular
comedies that had been produced for many years

An almost parallel case is that of Gerald Giiffin^s Gis-
sippus,^^ offeied wearily to many a manager during his life,
and performed brilliantly by Macready after his death.

Nor should we pass by a form of piece much m vogue — ^the
melodrama, in which brigands, and songs, and German castles
figured Such were ^^The Miller and his Men,^^ The Castle
of Andalusia, Tekeli, or, The Siege of Mongatz,^^ ^^Tale of
Mystery These, in their way, have merit, notably The
Castle of Andalusia,^^ which had extraordinary success, the
topics and incidents being novel, though since grown familiar
and hackneyed Admirable actors undertook the characters ,
there was an air of earnestness and reality imparted One of
the purveyors, but living a good many years later, of melo-

3o6 A KEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

drama of tins peculiar pattern, was the hapless Geoige Soane,
son of the well-known aichitect, and founder of the museum
in Lmcoln^s Inn Fields He was the author of two-act pieces
like The Falls of Clyde,^^ and was one of those who hung
loose on the drama. A more piteous story than his could not
he conceived, it was a life spent in hapless penury and
struggle and careless extravagance, at open war with his
wealthy father, whom he denounced to the public in pamphlets,
and who pitilessly cut him off. No story, save perhaps that
of Savage, can he compared with his

CHAPTER IV.

DECAY AND DISORDEE

With the beginning of the century affairs at Drury Lane
Theatre began to take a very disastrous turn. The extrava-
gance of the improvident manager and his family, and his
neglect of the administration, began to tell on its fortunes in
the most serious way. The treasury was drained to supply
family expenses, and he was too lazy to think of supplying new
pieces, wasting that mine of wealth which lay at his hand It
IS matter of doubt, however, whether he would have been as
successful in a second comedy of manners and society, and he
would probably have gone over the same ground. Kemble, it
will be remembered, was the stage-manager, and a few of his
letters will give the best idea of the state things were in.

For a long time the embarrassments of the theatre were
gathering fast and thick. Pieces in preparation stood still for
actual cash necessary to supply the common articles or ^'pro-
perties” of the scene; the salaries of the two leading players
— the mainstay of the house — ^were in arrear It is unusual
to find a stage-manager writing in this stram •

My dear Peake,

Let me remind you, that you are to send me 50Z for
Mrs. Siddons to-day, or we shall have no " King John on
Saturday, If you possibly can, send me a draft for the 50Z.

358 A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

(whicli you promised to Rave given me last Monday se^nnigRt)
for the author of Deaf and Dumb They are standing shll
m Greenwood’s room foi want of a httle canvas Unless you
help us therf^ we can have no ^^Oymbeline/^ nor any pantomime
at Christmas Touis^ J. P. Kemble

And again .

My beak Peake,

We aie all at a stand for want of colours
Monday Morning Tours^ J P K*

And —

One more^ and thaPs the last . — Othello

Tuesday, Half-past Five.

My dear Peake,

It IS now two days since my necessity made me send to
you for 601 My request has been treated with a disregard
that I am at a loss how to account for. I certainly shall go
and act my part to-night , but, unless you send me 100/ before
Thursday, I will not act on Thursday , and if you make me
come a-begging again, it will be for 200Z. before I set my foot
in the theatre Yours, J P. K.

Mr Boaden says that Sheridan often had to use all his
persuasion to bring Mrs Siddons down to the theatre to
perfoim, offeimg the security of all he had left — his honour.

He was also very eager to get Mr. Kemble to ]om him
in the proprietorship, and set many tempting arguments before
him But he could not at the time persuade him, though he
set before him this bait

£

Salary as actor

. 1050

Benefit

. 315

Manager ....

. 525

Percentage on clear profit

. 800

Dividend on quarter share

. 2500

4690

DECAY Ara DISOEDEB

359

I pnt adds tlie sanguine Stendaiij referring to

tliG dividend^ the ve7 y lowest speculahon

Kemble seems not to bave wholly resigned the idea, but
bis friend MoiiiS; a lawyer of eminence, on looking into the
deeds, could not make out even a secuie title, and be
determined to purchase a sbaie in the iival bouse, and retired
in June, 1802

The weekly pay-list duiing the last year of bis manage-
ment amounted to 413Z in salaries He himself bad 56Z
Bannister, King, Pope, 0 Kemble, Barrymore, etc, from 177
to 107 , Grimaldi, 4Z , Mrs Jordan about 31 Z (during the
season she received 1081Z), Mrs Crouch, 14Z ; Mrs Powell,
lOZ , the other ladies, from 51 to 3Z There were twenty-five
leading male actors, twenty-five inferior, and twenty female
pel formers

We now come to the fine display of courage on the part of
King George the Third when fired at in May, 1800, from the
pit, by the insane Hatfield It is well worth recording •

The King, upon hearing the report of the pistol, stood
firm, at about four paces in advance from the door of the box;
but amid the alarm and horror, and the thousand voices that
called to seize the assassin, with the self-possession that
became a sovereign, perhaps expectmg to have a second shot
fired in the tumult from some other quarter, His Majesty
calmly advanced to the very fiont of the box, where he
lemained, as such a man only could be, perfectly undismayed
Upon seeing the Queen enter, he at first with his hand waved
her back, but upon her inquiring what was the matter, the
King considerately replied Only a squib ^ they have been
firing squibs After the assassin, across the orchestia, had
been taken out of the pit, the Queen, in great agitation, came
forward and curtsied, and asked His Majesty whether they
should stay ^ His answer was, We will not stir. We will
stay the whole of the entertainment *

* The ever-ready Sheridan, when God save the King” was called for,
instantly scribbled an d projpos verse, winch he pnt into the singer’s hand

360 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

Among the many pleasing things associated with this
excellent and truly unfortunate King none are so agreeable
as his thorough and rational en]oyment of the stage At
Drury Lane^ at Wmdsoi, even at Weymouth^ he extended
his earnest patronage^ and had his favourite pieces and actors,
of which Quick was the King^s favourite actor/^ en tib e
This player he was sure to recognise in the street or on the
piomenade by kindly nod or speech When new talent was
heard of, the performer was sent for Lord Harcourt wrote
to Blliston that he had mentioned him to their Majesties
'^But Mr Thornton’s company at Windsor was only fit
to exhibit in a harn^^ ^^Don Felix, Charles Suiface,
Young Wilding, and Vapour are characters,^’ he adds, which
would please then Majesties, and represent you to advantage,
Walter, one of your best performances, I do not mention,
because I am sure the King will never again see ^ The
Children m the W ood ’ ” At W eymouth, Elhston made a good
impression while playing before His Majesty, who asked the
actor *^Well, well, Elhston,” said he, where — ^where have

you been acting lately^” ^^At Wells and Shepton Mallet,
your Majesty, in which places I was manager.” Manager
— manager ^ that won’t do — that won’t do, eh, Charlotte ^
Managers go to the wall — ^get the worst of it.” It didn’t
do, your Majesty At Wells I was particulaily unfortunate.”
^^At Wells — ^WeUs^” replied the King, good-humouredly,
^^’mongst the bishops ^ Quite right — quite right ^ no business
with the bishops, eh, Charlotte ^ Bishops don’t go to plays —
no business at plays — you no business with them Well,
well, where next^” ^‘1 returned to Weymouth, where I
have redeemed everything in the honour of serving your
Majesty” ^^Eh, eh?’-’ responded the King m the same
affability of tone and manner — ^^what, kings better than
bishops, eh ^ — ^found it out — ^found it out, Elhston ? ”

BEGAT AIsTD DISOEDEB.

361

It was at Weymontli (Mr Raymond tells ns) that a
little adventure befell tins comedian. On the mormng of his
benefit His Majesty had been rambling about the suburbs of
tbe town^ wben the ram coming on just as he was passing the
theatre-door he went in, and finding no one immediately at
hand proceeded at once to the royal box and seated himself in
his own chair. His Majesty fell into a comfortable doze, and
Elliston, now making his way to the theatre, went straight into
the King^s box, and on perceiving a man fast asleep m His
Majesty^s chair was about recalling him to his senses in no
gentle a manner when, very fortunately, he recognised the
King himself. What was to be done ^ Elhston hit on the
following expedient . taking up a violm from the orchestra
he stepped into the pit, and placing himself just beneath
his truly exalted guest struck up, dolcemente^ ^‘’God save
the King^^^ The expedient had the desned effect, the
royal sleeper was gently loosened from the spell which had
bound him, and, awaking, up he sprang, and staring the
genuflecting comedian full in the face, exclaimed, Hey !
hey ^ hey ^ what, what * Oh yes ^ I see, Elhston — ^ha ^ ha ^
rain come on — took a seat — took a nap. What^s o^clock ^
^^Approaching six, your Majesty” ^^Six^ — six o^clook

interrupted the King Send to Her Majesty — say Tm here.

Stay — stay — this wig won^t do — eh, eh^ Don^t keep the
people waiting — flight up — flight up — ^let ’em in — ^let ^em in —
haf ha! fast asleep. Play well to-night, Elhston Great
favourite with the Queen. Let ’em in — ^let ^em in’^ The
house was presently illuminated; messengers were sent off
to the royal party, which, in a short lapse of time, reached
the theatre Elhston then quitted the side of his most
affable monarch, and, dressmg himself m five minutes for his
part in the drama, went through his business with bounding
spirit ; nor was his glee at all dimimshed when, on attending
the royal visitors to their carriage, the King once more
nodded his head, saying. ^^East asleep, eh, Elhston ^ — fast
•asleep F

His good-humoured enjoyment of even what was sup-
jposed to be, though erroneous, a satire against himself was

362 A NEW HISTOET OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

sLown on the occasion of a visit to Oovent Garden towards the
close of the century^ to see a new comedy^ Speculation/^ by
the vivacious Reynolds

The two principal characters (says the author), Tan] ore
and Alderman Arable, were admirably performed by Lewis
and Quick. The latter was a gentleman farmer, and because
his barn, granary, piggery, and pigeon-house were fancifully
painted, highly varnished, and in every respect fantastically
decorated, the democratic frequenters of the theatre pro-
nounced the original of this scene to be Erogmore, and Aider-
man Arable a satire on no less a personage than the King*
On the night His Majesty commanded Speculation^^ the
alarm of the manager and the author was again intense. On
the appearance of the supposed Frogmore every eye in the
theatre was directed towards His Majesty, and that his eyes
were directed towards the scene with particular attention was
rendered awfully conspicuous by the marked manner in which
he leant over the box, making repeated use of his opera-glass,
and fiequently turning towards his family as if to make
remarks see,^^ said Mr Harris, in considerable agita-
tion, I see that the King is offended.'^^ As for me, at these
words, the terror I suffered was so considerably increased that
I began to be convinced what I had apprehended In this
state of mind did we contmue while the business of the stage
proceeded to that part of the scene where Quick, as Alderman
Aiable, says ^'That pretty team now carries all the ashes
and other manure to a neighbouring farmer, for you must
know that I am much too cleanly to have my dust and dirt
thrown on my own land His Majesty threw himself back in
the box with a most violent burst of laughter, exclaiming, I
-—I — I ? — Frogmore ^ — good ^ — and like it — ^like it * Once
agam our triumph was complete; from this moment His
Majesty continued to point out the application to the Queen
and Princesses, and they partaking in his delight to the end
of the play, Quick, in the supposed royal Frogmore farmer,
became their principal amusement.

A new and perplexing source of trouble — still connected

DEOAT AISTD DISOEDIE

36B

witli tlie question of resistance to tKe monopoly — was now
opening on tte managers.

In the season of 1800-1, the performers received notice fiom
the treasurer, that in future the charge of the benefit would
he 160Z, exclusive of the usual charge of supernumeraries^^
On the opening of the season they also found that the use of
their orders had been restrained in a very unusual manner ;
and that a number of new restrictions, of a trivial nature, had
been introduced A committee of eight persons was therefore
appointed to wait on Mr Hams, and communicate to him the
sentiments of the majority of the performers. Their letter
seemed chiefly to object to the additional charge of 20Z. on
benefit-nights, and to the fine of 30Z on the refusal of a
character. The memoranda were signed by Messrs Munden,
J Johnstone, Incledon, Pope, Fawcett, Holman, H Johnston,
and Knight Mr Harris rightly contended that orders were a
gratuitous indulgence , the otheis insisted that he had formerly
admitted them to be the privilege of the actors , he promised,
however, to make the indulgence as accommodating as possible
The charge on benefit-nights, the proprietors argued, had ever
been regulated by the actual expenditure of each night of per-
formance, and the piesent charge was much under the nightly
expense , the enlargement of the theatre, and the advancement
of the price, were said to be much more than an equivalent to
the performers for the unavoidable increased charge The fine
for refusing a character had been established two seasons ago
without a murmur, and had proved of such efficacy that not a
single fine had been imposed since the new regulation. The
treasurer stated also, that on an accurate calculation, he found
that the nightly expenses very considerably exceeded the sum
of 160Z In a subsequent letter, addressed to the eight per-
formers by Mr Hughes, he reduces the question to this simple
ground Whether the theatre shall be governed and con-
trolled by eight performers, each of them receiving, in one
season, on an average, 760Z per annum, exclusive of his summer
and other private emoluments, sick or well, act or not act,
without risk of any sort ^ ’’ or “ Whether the management,
with all its detailed regulations, shall remain with the pro-
prietors, whose piofits depend altogether on conduct, good

2 B 2

364 A NEW HISTOET OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

fortune, and tlie favour of tlie puUic ^ Mr Cumberland
undertook to become a mediator, but nothing was effected,
and the performers at length resolved on laying their case
before the public in a pamphlet, written by Mr Holman, in
which they very fully entered into the sub]ect For several
weeks this theatrical dispute was the topic of general discus-
sion, in which both parties had their friends and advocates
At length it was agreed by the persons concerned to leave the
subject to the decision of the Lord Chambeilain, without any
farther appeal. His lordship entered into the merits of the
question, and gave his verdict in favour of the manager

Messrs Pope and Holman left the theatre at the expiration
of their respective articles, the other six performers were
immediately reconciled to Mr Harris, and the business of the
theatie went on without any further interruption

The actors, however, uiged fairly enough that this large
income was more apparent than real. They were not paid by
the week, but only for the nights they acted. These payments,
too, only were for the season. They were paid, therefore, only
at that rate.

When Kemble returned from abroad he was ready to
conclude his purchase of a share in Oovent Garden Theatre.
The interesting Mrs. Inchbald, whose naivete and cleverness
make her story a most piquant one, had acted for him. The
result was he came into the partnership, buying a sixth share
of the whole for 22,000Z. — or, at the rate of 132,000? for the
whole NTow was he to exchange his life of certain emolument
and easy labour for trouble, anxiety, and loss of fortune But
he was only following the invariable course, the great actor
being always led on to become manager,

Victor, however, says he is convinced of this truth by
experience that no man, let his theatrical knowledge be ever
so great, can be a gainer by bemg manager, unless he is at
the same time first in the profession of an actor. The reader
can readily supply instances jpro and con. With his partner

DECAT AJSTD DISOEDEEu

S65

lie got on liarinomouslyj "but Kemble was ever easy tempered,
tbougb affecting a stiff solemnity on occasions Mr Hams
and Ins son were persons of mark in the line of English,
managers. Successive directors of Covent Garden, the father
and son belonged to a well-known family, who for some fifty
years administered the fortunes of that great house There
are valuable traditions in management to be transmitted by
family ties, and experience may thus almost be said to be
inherited* Eich, Garrick, Oolman, and Harris seemed to
exhaust the list of well- trained managers Mr Harris, senior,
was a courteous, liberal gentleman, and considerate to all under
his direction. He was originally a soap-boiler, and had
purchased his shares in the theatre for a small sum, and by
judicious engagements of good actors had gradually developed
his property. Out of the profits of his theatre he was able to
live in handsome style at his place near Uxbridge, Belmont,
where he entertained his friends Of his consideration for
his actors, O^Keefe relates several instances creditable to his
heart

Much of Kemble^s trouble was caused by George Frederick
Cooke, one of the strange eccentrics of the stage, a violent,
jealous, clever being, of much power and originality, but
addicted to, and ultimately shipwrecked by, the fatal vice of
dnnk. Natures of his kind in other professions are forced
into a sort of disciphne, but on the stage real talent seems
to condone such excesses, and the influence of applause^
flatterers, and a party prevents the application of wholesome
restraint. The story of his career is a pitiable one. the
arriving at the theatre intoxicated, and being thrust on the
stage, after wet towels had been applied, and the staggering
through his part, at last coming to disregard his audience,
when such a scene as this took place : Having vainly tned,^^
says Mrs. Mathews, to recollect the beginning of Exchard^s

366 A HEW HISTOET OE THE EKaLISH STAGE,

first soliloquy, lie tottered forward witli a cunning yet maudlin
intent to divei’t the indignation expressed into a false
channel] and laying his hand impressively on his chest to
insinuate that illness was the only cause of his failure, with
upturned eyes supplicating all the sympathy of his audience,
he hiccuped out the unlucky words ^My old complaint ^ ^
when a burst of derisive laughter followed^ and renewed
hisses

He sank lower and lower, until he was found unprofitable,
Tet, after his first appearance at Co vent Garden m 1800,
he brought a vast deal of money into the treasury, and on
the whole his follies, during his short twelve years’ course—
he died in 1812 — ^weie very indulgently treated *

The first matter of importance under Mr Kemble’s super-
vision was the well-known Master Betty craze, in 1804,
and so often recounted That this boy, who was undoubtedly
clever, interesting, and sympathetic, as can be seen from the
various pictures, certainly deserved much of his reputation,
IS evident from the appiobation of men like Fox, and others
of equal judgment Mis Siddons and her brother looked on
scornfully, the former declaring he was merely a pretty boy.
The evil was the example set, and other “infant phenomenons ”
— Miss Mu die. Master Burke, and even Master Balfe —
succeeded in course of time.

Both theaties contended for the child, and the dispute
was at last referred to Parson Bate Dudley, who declared
that both had an equal claim, and that he should appear at
both, which he did, beginning with Covent Garden.

* Hxs spirit before the audience, ^hen he was sober, was untamed, and had
in it something gallant, as when he told the people at Liverpool there was not
a brick in theu duty hole that was not cemented by the blood of a negro ** On

another occasion, he said the only thing he had to apologise for was * having
degraded himself by appearing before them , ” but this he was induced to qualify
later, saying, “ That he meant he had degraded himself by appearing in such a
state,’* etc.

DECAY AITD DISOEDEE,

367

Mr Eaymond tells the wonderful result

The average of the first twenty-four performances was
609Z. per night. After completing this, a fresh one was made
in Drury Lane, at 100 guineas a night. The sum total of
receipts amounted to 32,416Z, and the average 586Z. per
night *

In 1809, we find the brilliant manager of the Haymarket
Theatre, George Golman, suffering the restraint of the Kmg^s
Bench Prison, and essaying to direct his theatre from that
retreat. This was not unnaturally objected to by his brother-
partners, Messrs Morris and Winston, and the Chancellor
before whom the matter was brought suggested that the
dispute should be referred to arbitrators. When these were
appointed, one being Mr Harris, fresh objections were taken.

The Chancellor said he thought Mr. Harris a very unfit
person for an arbitrator in such a case, and postponed his
judgment I will not now,^^ he added, attempt to insinuate
what the decision will be, but I feel confident it will be
disagreeable to all the parties

This hint had its effect, and the matter was withdrawn for
the present. But they broke out on the score of certain
engagements of Elliston and Munden, at what were thought
too high salaries. Munden, whose weakness was a fondness
for money, had lately broken into revolt, setting at naught
the old-established rules of the theatre. He not only refused
a part m the rudest language of defiance, but he claimed
salary when he had not been acting (the old rule being that
no performer should receive salary until he had acted or given
notice of being ready to do so when called upon”). His
salary at this time was 17Z. a week — ^not a very large sum
for the first comic ” of a great house The performer continu-
ing to make remonstrance, and declaring that what he received
^^was insufficient for the liberal support of himself and his
family/^ desired to leave, and the proprietors agreed to cancel

368 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

Eis articles. This- transaction was very significant, when we
consider that he had already headed a revolt at the other theatre,,
and it showed that the old respectable system was tottering.

He was presently drawn into the quarrel that was theni
going on between his new managers, and in which Oolman
took his side. Munden was to have lOOL for a month^a
service, which was thought too much by Winston and Morris,
and his part of the quarrel again found its way to Lord Eldon..

If (said he, in an extraordinary harangue) the htigation on.
the east and west side of the Haymartet continued, in justice
to the other suitors a branch of the Court of Chancery ought
to be placed in the Haymarket. It was not to be borne that
he should be made the manager of opera-houses, theatres,
circuses, and puppet-shows. He had not a knowledge of
the ment of the different performers; but, if such salaries
were given to them, it was a better profession than
the Bar. He had once said that he would not give 55-
to hear Catalan! sing all the year round, and suppose
he was to decide, he might think that a singer ought to
have 55. instead of 6000Z a year; he would, however,
never make use of that expression again, for, from the first
time he did, he never dare venture into a place of fashionable
amusement. (This was in the truly contemptuous strain.) Mr..
Morns ought to be consulted on the engagements, and where
he was not, he ought to give notice to the performers that
they were not legally engaged, in which case an action would
not lay against him , but if consulted, and Mr. Colman and
the other proprietor agreed, he must acquiesce, and pay the
salary of the person so engaged.

the §ixth.

PEOM THl OPEIUNG OF GEEAT THEATEES TO THE
“LIBEETY OF THE THEATEES ”

CHAPTER I.

THE BUEHIHG OF THE THEATRES.

It miglit have been thonght that London had its sufficient
share of theatrical conflagrations in the destruction that had
overtaken the handsome Opera-house and Pantheon only a
few years before. But a more extraordinary disaster was
now to take place in the burning, within a few months of
each other^ of the two great patent theatres thus^ within
twenty years, five theatres of the first classj on which
enormous sums had been expended, were consumed by fire — a
singular and unique fatality. On the morning of September
20th, 1808, about four o^clock. Covent Garden Theatre was
found to have caught fire. No water could be procured,
though there were plenty of engines , and the roof presently
falling in, the destruction was complete Over twenty persons
lost their lives

The insuiances did not exceed 50,000Z,* and the savings
from the Shakespeare premises about 3500Z moie, the whole
not more than one-fourth part of the sum requisite to replace
the theatre The actual loss was immense, besides the usual

* In a pamphlet of some years later, inspired evidently by the patentees,
I find it stated, in reference to insurance, that it is impossible to insuie the
theatres for more than an eighth of their value The premium demanded is
three guineas per cent , the rate of common insurances being two shillings

372 A I^EW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

stock of scenery, tliere was an additional quantity for a new
melodrama, winch, was shortly to have been brought forward.
The Bedford and Piazza Coffee-houses escaped the flames,
owing to a wall which had been erected by the proprietors of
the theatre a short time before, to guard themselves from the
danger of the adjoining premises.

The organ, left by Handel as a legacy to the theatre, stated
to be worth upwards of 1000 guineas, and which was only used
tor the oratorios, was consumed; the Beefsteak Club, which
held its meetings at the top of the theatre, lost its stock of
wines, valued at 1500Z ; Mr Ware, the leader of the band, lost
a violin worth 300Z , which had been left behind that night for
the first time in two years ; Mr. Munden, his wardrobe, not to
be replaced under 800Z ; Miss Bolton, her jewels; and the
other performers property, in the aggregate, to a considerable
amount. Some of the private houses were not insured, and
others but partially. The receipts of the preceding night^s
performance, with the books and papers belonging to Mr.
Brandon^s office, were the only property of consequence
belonging to the theatre saved.^^

English energy soon set itself to repair the calamity, and
withm little more than three months, on the 80th of December,
the first stone of a new house was laid by the Prmce Begent.
The fortunate Kemble, who was remarked during the elaborate
ceremonial arrayed in blue and white, received a present from
a duke, whom he had once obliged in some trifling matter, of
lOjOOOZ. Mr Smirke was appomted the architect, and a
ponderous, heavy-looking building, something after the pat-
tern of the Acropolis, was erected within a year. The money
amounting to 300,000Z, was raised partly by subscription,
partly by shares of 500Z, each, the Prince and many others
taking two shares each, which covered 50,000Z. of the expenses
but these were to be paid off with five per cent, interest^

THE BTJEHIHG- OF THE THEATEES.

373

amounting to 2500L The insurance money reached 44000L
Kemble and the managers probably raised the rest. It was
built to contain 3000 persons The receipts, when full, were
equal to nearly 700Z This, with good management, allowed
of vast profits, even though the outlay and expenses weie of
growing extravagance *

The opening of the great theatre, the exterior of which,
it was boasted, was one of the most imposing in Europe,
so far from having the conspicuous effect anticipated, was
celebrated by the well-known disastrous series of iiots.
These were prompted by an attempt of the managers to
increase their profits, and, indeed, it was fairly shown later,
that otheiwise they could not have been recouped for their
great outlay f This was done by laying out rows of private
boxes with small saloons attached, while the mob were sent
aloft to remote galleries, where they could scarcely see or hear
The frightful scenes of disorder that went on for weeks during
the 0 riots, uncontrolled by managers or police, inflicted
irreparable disaster and impaired the prestige of the new
theatre. The managers had at last to capitulate. I do not
dwell on these disorders, as the incidents are so familiar

It was remarkable that, when the theatre was burning, all
the Drury Lane employes had been busily at work on the
roof of their house, keeping off the fiery flakes which fell
profusely They little dreamt that a similar fate was in store
for the house they were protecting^ On the evening of
February 24th, 1809, when there had been no performance.
Covent Garden was once moie lit up by the flames; Mathews

* One item alone will show the progressive rate of expenditure The
original ground-rent in 1733 was only 1001 , thirty years later it became 300Z ,
and thirty years later again 940? By 1826 it had reached 2000? *

t The Governor of the Bank of England and other gentlemen to whom the
accounts were submitted, vouched that the profit on the new prices could not
exceed 3| per cent , and on the old there would be a loss of f per cent.

374 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENOLISH STAGE

was dining with some friends m Lincoln^s Inn Fields^ when a
servant rushed in with the news. The whole party rushed
to the scene to try and rescue their goods, for Mathews had a
yaluahle collection of wigs (Garricb^s), some had jewellery ; and
they succeeded in dragging out an enormous chesfc Before
twelve 0 ^ clock the whole was in a blaze stood/^ says

Mr Boaden, with my boots covered with water, until I saw
the figure on the summit (the Apollo) sink into the flames
The fire was appalling, and could be seen for miles, every-
thing was destroyed — books, papers, etc — save Mathewses
wigs and Mrs Jordan^s di esses, etc. Sheridan was said to
have witnessed it at a coffee-house, saying pleasantly that a
man might sit at his own fireside A grand scheme for laying
out the outer portion of the building in shops and taverns had
been devised by Sheridan, and the plans arranged. It is
amusing to contrast this with Kemble^s theatrical demeanour

Mr. F Place, in his interesting MS notes, describes how,
on this catastrophe, Sheridan at once agreed with Lingham, of
the Strand, for his interest in the Lyceum Theatre, where he
proposed carrying on the performances till the theatre was
rebuilt.

The arrangements were almost made when, by some mis-
understanding, Mr. Arnold stepped in, and the Lyceum was
let to him He thus was enabled to deal with the Drury Lane
actors on profitable terms They finished the season The next
winter, on September 18th, 1809, “upon the joint application
of all parties principally concerned,” a licence was granted to
Colonel Greville, Tom Sheridan, and Arnold Mr. Place says
volumes might be filled with the intrigues that were behind
this arrangement, and hints sarcastically at the description of
those principally concerned,^^ which included Mr Greville^
who was not concerned at all. Thus the improvident Sheridan
was unlucky even in this He was, in truth, ruined from that

THE BVmim OF THE THEATEES

375

moment^ and tlLOugh. all claims on the house — complicated and
conflicting to an alarming degree — must revive on the rebuild-
ing, he set all his energies to start the plan at once He
succeeded in persuading Mr Whitbread^ the brewer, an admir-
able man of business and a politician of influence, to take the
matter up

Mr. Whitbread was a man much respected and full of energy,
with a ready good humour that made him popular* He
carried the scheme through — and it was one of stupendous
magnitude — with wonderful perseverance and success A
committee was formed of Mr. Peter Moore^ Lord Holland,
Mr. Lyttleton, and others, who, after much investigation into
the claims, that seemed hopelessly confused, drew up a plan
On October 14th, 1811, a meeting was held, and the following
scheme adopted •

The debts of the theatre amounted to 436,9 71 Z., and the
dormant patent was to be purchased The payment was made
to Mr. White for his interest therein It also pointed out that
it was the interest of all the claimants to come into the terms,
which was 2b pei cent foi the a'ireais due to them When the
late theatre was consumed, the rent due to the Buhe of JBedfoj d
was 4250Z , but with a degree of munificence he said he would
forego the sum altogether, and would also set free the money
due from the insurance offices. The example of the duke was
followed in many instances by others. The debts due to the
500Z shareholders amounted in 1809 to 43,912? IO 5 The
number of names were 224, and many were in the hands of
executors, minors, and widows 191 had compromised then
claims, and many had abandoned them altogether Of the
next class, out of 830, only 4 had refused to sign The next
class of creditors were the 3000Z shareholders, who were
entitled to IZ each night of performance when the theatre was

* His reply to the rude Tory memher who described him contemptuously
in the House of Commons as “ a brewer of bad beer,” was admirable foi its
adroitness and good humoui A fracas was anticipated, but he rose and said
*^Mr Speaker, I call him to order for abusing the article which I sell ’’

376 A MW HISTORY QH THl OTOLISH STAOE.

opeiij whose debt amounted to 105,000L , but out of 25 of this
description of claimants, 20 had signed, and only 1 refused.
The debt due to this class of claimants could be extinguished
for the sum of 26,000Z. There was due to the old renters,
being in number 221 persons, 15,245?., which could be
qu€athedfo7 3811? The creditors on the trust-deed, consisting
of authors, performers, tradespeople, and others, had due to
them 62,611?. Out of 189 persons, 118 had accepted the com-
promise, so that the debt could be extinguished for 13,168?.
The claim for private boxes was 9625?., and lastly was that of
the proprietors themselves. They had an interest in the
concern, and by allowing them the same terms, the matter
would stand thus Mr Sheiidan held a half, for which it was
proposed to give him 24,000? , Mr. Thomas Sheridan had a
fourth, which would be 12,000? ; and Mrs. Eichardson had a
quarter, for which 24,000? was to be given, but, as only part
of the money had been paid, it was proposed to give her 6000?,
by which the subscribers would have the whole of the concern,
and none of the old proprietors would have anything to do
with it whatever. The whole of the debt of4i56,971l could he
compromised for one fourth. The committee recommended the
]Oint stock to he 800,000?., which would he competent to eteot the
theatre^ liquidate the debts, and purchase a wardrobe The
committee were of opimon that a commodious, elegant, and
suitable theatre may be erected for 150,000?. The committee
calculated that the interest of the money, with rent, taxes, etc.
to be provided for, would be about 17,000?. per annum. There
would be to meet this expense 600? a year for vaults under the
theatre, 200?. per annum for the site of a tavern, a limited
number of private boxes, 5000? a year, and the rent of houses
belongmg to the concern, 600? a year. It was estimated that
the receipts of the theatre each season, after deducting rent,
taxes, etc., would be a sum of 49,000?.

THS PATENT OE 1811.

George the Third, by the grace of God, of the United
Xmgdom of Great Britain and Ireland, King, Defender of the
Eaith, etc. To all to whom these presents shau come, greet-
ing. Whereas, by an act which passed in Parliament in the

THE BHEHIHa OF THE THEATEES

377

fiftieth year of our reign, entitled, An Act for the rebuilding
of the late Theatre Eoyal, Drury Lane/^ upon the conditions
and under the legulations therein mentioned, our trusty and
well-beloved Samuel Whitbread, Peter Moore, and Harvey
Christian Ooombe, Esquires, are appointed trustees for the
purpose therein mentioned And whereas, by another Act
which passed in Parliament in the fifty-second year of our
reign, entitled, An Act for altering and enlarging the Powers
of an Act of his present Majesty for lebuildmg the late
Theatre Eoyal, Drury Lane,” provision is made for the appoint-
ment of successors to the said trustees respectively How
know ye that we, for divers good causes and considerations us
thereunto moving of our especial grace, certain knowledge and
motion, have given and granted, and by these presents for
us, our heirs and successors, do give and grant unto the
said Samuel Whitbread, Peter Moore, and Harvey Christian
Coombe, their successors and assigns, in trust for the Theatre
Eoyal, Drury Lane, company of proprietors, for and during
the full end and term of twenty-one yeans^ to commence from
the second day of September j in the year of our Lord Christ,
one thousand eight hundred and sixteen, full power, licence,
and authority, to gather together, foim, entertain, govern,
privilege, and keep a company of comedians for our service,
to exercise and act tiagedies, plays, opems, and othei perform-
ances on the stage, within a house to be built m Dmry Lane,
or within any other house built, or to be built, where they can
best be fitted for that purpose, within the city of Westminster,
and within the limits thereof, and within such place where we,
our heirs and successors shall reside, and during such resi-
dence only such house, or houses, to be built (if occasion shall
require, to be assigned and allotted out by the chief cjSSicer of
our works) for a theatre or playhouse, with necessary attiring
and retiring rooms, and other places convenient, of such
extent and dimensions as the said Samuel Whitbread, Peter
Moore, and Harvey Christian Coombe, their successors and
assigns, shall think fitting, wlieiein tragedies, comedies, plays,
operas, music, scenes, and all other entei tainments of the stage
ivhatsoever may be shown and presented, which said company
shall be our servants, and styled our Eoyal Company of
Comedians, and shall consist of such numbers as the said

2 0

VOL 11.

378 A KEW HISTOEY OF THE ENG-LISH STAOB

Samuel Whitbread, Peter Moore, and Harvey Ohristian
Ooombe, their successors and assigns, shall from time to
time think meet , and we do hereby, for us, our heirs and
successors, grant unto the said Samuel Whitbread, Peter
Moore, and Harvey Christian Ooombe, their successors and
assigns, full power, licence, and authority to permit such
persons, at and during the pleasure of the said Samuel Whit-
bread, Peter Moore, and Harvey Christian Ooombe, their
successors and assigns, from time to time to act plays and
entertainments of the stage of all sorts, peaceably and quietly,
without the impeachment oi impediment of any person or
persons whatsoever, for the honest recreation of such as shall
desire to see the same, nevertheless under the regulations
hereinafter mentioned, and such others as the said Samuel
Whitbread, Peter Moore, and Harvey Christian Coombe, their
successors or assigns, from time to time in their discretion,
shall find reasonable and necessary for our service ; and we do
hereby, for us, our heirs and successors, further grant to
them, the said Samuel Whitbread, Peter Moore, and Harvey
Christian Coombe, their successors and assigns, as aforesaid,
that it shall, and may be lawful to and for the said Samuel
Whitbread, Peter Moore, and Harvey Christian Coombe, their
successors and assigns, to take and receive of such of our
subjects as shall resort to see or hear any such tragedies,
plays, opeias, or other entei tainments whatsoever, such sum
or sums of money as either have accustomably been given
and taken in the like kind, or as shall be thought reasonable
by them, in regard of the great expenses of building, hiring,
and fitting up the said theatre. And further, for us, our heirs
and successors, we do hereby give and grant unto the said
Samuel Whitbread, Peter Moore, and Harvey Christian
Ooombe, their successors and assigns, full power to make
such allowances out of that which they shall so receive by
the acting of tragedies, plays, operas, or other enteitamments
of the stage as aforesaid, to the actors and other persons em-
ployed in acting, representing, or in any quality whatsoever
in and about the said theatre, as the said Samuel Whitbread,
Peter Moore, Harvey Christian Ooombe, their successors and
assigns, shall think fit, and that the said company shall be

THE BURHIHa OF THE THEATEES

379

under the sole government and authority of the said Samuel
Whitbread, Peter Moore, and Harvey Christian Ooombe, their
successors and assigns, and all scandalous and mutmous
persons shall from time to time by them be ejected and disabled
from playing in the said theatre. And for the better attain-
ing our royal purposes in this behalf, we have thought it fit
hereby to declare that henceforth no representation be admitted
on the stage, by virtue or under colour of these our letters
patent, whereby the Christian religion in general or the Church
of England may in manner suffer reproach, strictly inhibiting
every degree of abuse or misrepresentation of sacred characters
tending to expose religion itself and to bring it into contempt,
and that no such character be otherwise introduced or placed
in any other light than such as may enhance the just esteem
of those who truly answer the end of their sacred function, we
further enjoin the strictest regard to such representation as
any way may concern civil policy or the constitution of our
government, that these may contribute to the support of our
sacred authority and the preservation of order and good
government. And it being our royal will and pleasure that
for the future our theatie may be instrumental to the pro-
motion of virtue and instructive to human life We do hereby
command and enjoin that no new play, or old or revived play,
be acted under the authority hereby granted, containing any
passages or expressions offensive to piety and to good manners,
until the same be corrected and purged by the said governors
from all such offensive and scandalous passages and expres-
sions, and these our letters patent, or the enrolment, or
exemplification thereof, shall be in and by all things good,
firm, valid, suflSicient, and effectual in the law, according to
the true intent and meaning thereof, anything in these
presents contained to the contrary thereof in anywise not-
withstanding, or any other omission, imperfection, defect,
matter, cause, or thing whatsoever, to the contrary thereof
in anywise notwithstanding In witness whereof we have
caused these our letters to be made patent. Witness our seal
at Westminster, 19th June, in the fifty-second year of our
reign, by writ of Privy Seal.

WiLMOT.

2 o 2

380 A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

The final arrangements were, that the dormant patent
should not he acted upon, hut a new and short running
patent for thirty years should he obtained

The plan one Rowles had entered into an agreement to
execute, and to have it finished on or before the 1st of October
next, under a penalty of 20,O00Z. Mr. Wyatt, the architect,
had entered into a similar engagement to execute his part,,
under a penalty of 5000Z The building was pushed on with
extraordinary energy and rapidity. The fiist stone was laid on
October 29th, 1811, and the house actually opened on October
10th, 1812 It was to prove a smaller house than the old
^^Apollo^^ Theatre, which held 3611 persons, producing 826Z 6s.
The new one, at this time, held 2810 persons, producing 750Z
But there were other difficulties in the way Those who
favoured ^^free trade in the theatres now felt that here was an
opportunity not to be lost for making an attempt at enlaigmg the
number of playhouses, and a serious effort was made to procure
a licence fora new and independent theatre. There was an ap-
plication made to the Privy Council, where Sheridan appeared
in person to oppose it and argued the question, meeting all
objections with great spirit, and eventually success

A bill was mtroduced into Parliament for a new theatre.
A rather serious case could be made out against these old
houses, of maladministration opposed to the spirit of the great
trust given to them In their greed for large audiences and
large profits they had erected, and were erecting, enormous-
structures, which were destructive of the veiy entertainment
they were bound to piovide Petitions were sent to the
House and also to the Privy Council. The scheme was sup-
ported by the Lord Mayor, many members of Parliament, and
City men.^^ The capital was fixed at 20O,000Z , and would
have been found. Being referred to the law officers, who
reported against the plan, the petitions were heard before the

THE Bvmma of the theatees*

381

Oouncil on Marcli lOfchj 1810 The arguments were ingenious
It was asked^ very pertinently. ^^How was it that the
single great theatre, now that Drury Lane did not exist, was
not full?^^

My position (said one of the counsel) is this that
the houses are empty from the natural incommodiousness of
them. They may be occasionally and accidentally filled by
the representation of a new play, or the performance of a
favourite actor, but, in general, they will be deserted from the
want of accommodation. Unless these houses be totally
altered, we shall not take away persons from them In their
present state they are certainly more fit for a Spanish bull-fight
than for theatrical performances If curiosity ever induced
any of your lordships to visit the places appropriated for the
accommodation of the humbler classes, you would find that,
looking down from the height through the vast concave, the
actors appear like the inhabitants of Lilliput TSot a feature
of the face can be distinguished, far less the variations and
flexibility of muscles, the turn of the eye and graceful action.
It IS impossible to exert the human voice to that extent as to be
heard in those places, and still to retain the power of modu-
lating its tones Further, in a memorial drawn up on behalf
of Mrs. Eichardson (representing a quarter share of the
patents and other remaining pioperty of the late Drury Lane
Theatre), it is asserted that ^^the proprietors of Drury Lane
Theatre have it in their power to prove incontrovertibly to
any person that their theatre (and it is supposed that they
might safely add that of Oovent Garden) could have held,
taking the average through every season since its construc-
tion, double the number it has ever received,’^ In the next
year Sheridan, in the House of Commons, assigned a cause
for the ill-success of the theatre. It was the taste of the
town that perverted the theatre Mr Kemble would much
rather, he was sure, act on his own two legs than call in the
aid of cavalry ; but the fact was, that the taste of the town
was more gratified by them,”

During the course of this mcident various petitions were
addressed to the Council by the proprietors of the difierent

382 A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

theatres, by those interested by investment and otherwise.
Elliston, Kemble, Harris, Mrs. Thomas Sheridan, Arnold, and
others, were among the number, the whole giving a very com-
plete sketch of the state of the theatres. The encourage-
ment that had been given to the monopoly by the highest
authorities made the case one of hardship, yet it was clear
that it was already impossible to continue in the old course o£
monopoly. Though the bill was defeated, it was plainly shown
in the course of the debate that the Government was not
favourable to the monopoly. Sheridan and his son were dealt
with handsomely, receiving 40,O00Z , out of which they were
to satisfy the claim of the Linleys

CHAPTER II

NEW DRURY LANE THEATRE — KEAN.

The new theatre which is now standing, haying enjoyed a long
life of over seyenty years, is nearly the same as it was when
erected It is, in tiuth, a noble, spacious, and finely-con-
ceiyed edifice, reflecting the tiaditions of a good classical
school It IS impossible to enter and pass through its halls,
vestibules, and rotundas without a sense of dignity and pro-
portion The architect had formed a true conception, which
he was allowed to carry out untrammelled This sense of just
proportion and dignity is sadly lacking in modern temples.
The exterior is indeed not imposing, but it has never been
completed. It should be added, however, that it is pro-
fessedly modelled after what is peihaps the finest theatre in
Europe — the one at Bordeaux This can be seen by a com-
parison of the plans, though the beautiful airangement of
short balconies, supported between pillars, has not been
followed in the English house On entering the theatre
the visitor finds himself in a great vestibule or ciush-ioom,
which opens again on the rotunda, a noble and imposing
circular hall reaching to the roof, with a galleiy running
round, whence, to the right and left, open all the approaches
to the various stairs These aie laid out in a bold airy way,
and are very stiiking

384 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.

The fiist manager was Mr. Arnold, later of the English
Opeia-house at the Lyceum, while Eaymond, author of the
amusing biography of Blliston, was stage-manager. To give
a suitable eclat to the opening it was resolved to offer a
prologue — ^then a necessary adjunct to the stage, and a happy
link between the two worlds on both sides of the curtain. A
prize of twenty guineas was offered for the best composition
About one hundred were sent in, all so indifferent that Lord
Holland suggested applying to Lord Byron. He at first
declmed, but, anxious to oblige Lord Holland, consented, and
laboured hard at his task, submitting with great modesty
various versions. Tell Lady Holland,-’^ he wrote, I have sad
work to keep out the Phoenix — I mean the fire-office of that
name. It insured the theatre, and why not the address ^ It
was delivered by Elliston. It, however, had one admiiable
lesult, enriching the language with the well-known ^^Eejected
Addresses,^^ the hasty work of two obscure young men, and one
of the wittiest effusions in the language.*

Unhappily, towards the end of 1814, a sad catastrophe,
which shocked the whole town, deprived the theatre of the
energetic man of business to whom it was indebted for
existence. Mr. Whitbread^s mind, overstrained by mental
labours (Mr. Moore says by those of the theatre), gave way.
He had not slept for weeks, and, m a moment of delirium,
destroyed himself .f

The committee of noblemen and gentlemen now deter-
mined on the bold and original step of managing the great
house themselves, and deputed the task to a sort of sub-
committee, consisting of Lords Essex and Byron, Mr. Douglas
Emnaird, Mr. Peter Moore, MP., and others. This absurd

* The genmne ‘^Kejeoted Addresses” were also published in a volume

t Lady 0 Bury states that a sharp fragment, or spicule, of the skull was
found pressing into the bxam

MW DEUEY LANE THEATEE— KEAN,

385

and perilous step was in the end^ as was to Tbe expected^ frauglit
with disaster^ and for three seasons the noblemen and gentle-
men made experiments and amused themselves at the same
time. Lord Byron has recorded some recollections of this
bizm'ie period

When I belonged to the Drury Lane Committee, and was
one of the stage committee of management, the number of
plays upon the shelves was about five hundred. Conceiving
that amongst them there must be some of merit, in person and
by proxy, I caused an investigation, I do not think that of
those which I saw there was one which could be tolerated

He then applied to Maturm and Coleridge

Sir J. B Burgess also presented /owr tragedies and a farce,
which I handed to the Green-room and Stage Committee, but
they would not do Then the scenes I had to go through !
The authors and authoresses — the milliners and the wild Irish-
men — the people from Brighton, from Blackwall, from Chatham,
from Cheltenham, from Dublin, from Dundee, who came m
upon me ^ to all of whom it was proper to give a civil answer,
and a hearing, and, ah me ^ sometimes a reading

Mrs Glover’s father, an Irish dancing-master of sixty
years, called upon me to request to play Aa^cher, dressed in
silt stockings, on a frosty morning, to show his legs (which
were certainly good for his age, and very Irish). Miss Emma
Somebody, with a play, entitled ^^The Bandit of Bohemia,^’ or
some such title , Mr. O’Higgins — ^residenx at Richmond — with
an Irish tragedy, in which the protagonist was chained by the
leg to a pillar during the chief part of the performance. The
author was a wild man, of savage appearance, and the diffi-
culty of not laughing at him was only to be got over by reflecting
on the probable consequences with such a ruffian.

As I am really a civil and polite person, and hate giving
pain when it can be avoided, I sent these applicants up to
Douglas Kinnaird, who is a man of business, and sufficiently
ready with a negative , and so left them to settle with him.

Players are said to be impracticable people. They are so ,

336 A NEW HISTOBY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE.

but I managed to steer clear of any disputes witb them, and
excepting one debate witb the elder Byrne about Miss Smith’s
jpas de — something (I forget the technicals)^ I do not remember
any litigation of my own I used to piotect Miss Smithy
because she was like Lady Jane Harley in the face ^ and like-
nesses go a great way with me indeed Then the committee
— next, the sub-committee — ^we were but few, and never
agreed There was Peter Moore, who contradicted Kinnaird ,
and Kinnaird, who contradicted everybody.

There were two managers, Eae and Dibdm, and our
secietary, Ward We weie all very zealous, and in earnest
to do good service, and so foith. Hobhouse furnished us with
piologues to our levivedold English plays, but was not pleased
with us for complimenting him as the Upton of our theatre
(Ml Upton IS, or was, the poet who wiites the songs for
Astley^s), and almost gave up prologuising in consequence

He wrote to Moore

My new function consists in listening to the despair of
Cavendish Bradshaw, the hopes of Kinnaird, the wishes of
Loid Essex, the complaints of Whitbread, and the calculations
of Peter Moore, all of which and whom seem totally at variance.
0 Bradshaw wants to light the theatre with gas, which may
perhaps (if the vulgar be believed) poison halt the audience
and all the d'} amahs personce * Essex has endeavoured to per-
suade Kean not to get drunk, the consequence of which is,
that ho has never been sober since Kinnaird, with equal
Success, would have convinced Eaymond that he, the said
Eaymond, had too much salary Whitbread wants us to assess

the pit another sixpence — a d d insidious proposition —

which will end in an 0 P combustion To crown all, Eobins,
the auctioneer, has the impudence to be displeased because he
has no dividend The man is a proprietoi of shares, and a
long-headed orator in the meetings.

* The reader will note the allusion to the lighting of Drury Lane with gas
That mode of illumination was destined to obtain in playhouses for some seventy
yearfa, and as I wiite is giving place to a newer and more perfect form of
lighting The Haymarket continued to be lit with oil till so recently as
X862 01 1853

NEW DEURY LANE THEATRE-KEAN.

387

In the pantomime of 1815 tRere was a representation of
the masquerade of 1814 given to tRe alRed sovereigns and
WeUington & Co. Douglas Kinnaird, and one oi two otRers^
witR myself, put on masks, and went on tRe stage witR tRe
01 TToXXoi to see tRe effect of a tReatre from tRe stage It is very
grand Douglas danced among tRe -figurantes, and tRey were
puzzled to find out wRo we were In tRe dispute between tRe
ballet-master and Miss SmitR, RotR rusRed to me to decide it,
wRicR I did in favour of Miss SmitR

It IS really very good fun,^^ Re wrote to a friend, as far
as tRe daily and nigRtly stir of tRese strutters and fretters go ,
and if tRe concern could be brought to pay a sRillmg in tRe
pound, would do mucR credit to tRe managements^ But by a
strange freak of fortune, wRen all things were going lapidly
to the bad, the committee of ^^noblemen andgentlemen^^ seems
to Rave floundered into good fortune This was the almost
accidental engagement of Kean, the glory of Drury Lane, and
whose statue ornaments the lotunda TRe tale has been often
told Everyone knows of the 8Z a week, the neglect and
almost contempt of the managers and actors. His first appear-
ance in London was not Ris fiist ^^on any stage,^^ and it is
curious that there should be no instance of a triumphant
appearance , the nearest to which is Garrick’s, who Rad only
appeared a few times in the country.

It must be said that the intelligent committee could not
take any credit for dramatic instinct in their giving the new
actor this chance, as, even after they Rad made their bargain,
and seen Rim, they seemed inclined to be rid of it.

‘‘ On arriving in the metropolis,^^ says Mr. Hawkins, Re
secured for Ris lodgings a dismantled, comfortless garret in
Oecfi Street, Strand. On the following morning Arnold
introduced Rim to the Drury Lane Committee. TRey only saw
a little self-possessed man, the native pallor of whose face was
heightened by the contrast it exhibited to the penetrating

388 A NEW HISTOHY OF THE ENOLISH STAGE

brilliancy of Ins eyes and tbe sbabby-genteel mourning be
wore m memory of bis lost son/^

On bis first rehearsing tbe part of Sbylock, so little in*
terest/^ says a witness, ^^seemed to be attached to Mr. Keanes
success, that, through one excuse or other sent by performers for
non-attendance, there were, m some scenes, only tbe new actor,
and myself as prompter, on tbe stage I apologised to Mr.
Kean for this seeming neglect, which he appeared quite
indifferent about He did not at rehearsal speak so as to
convey any very magnificent idea of what be meant to do ;
yet, as I bad formerly seen in Cooke, there was a judicious
something in his quietude that augured well. Mr. Wroughton,
who was rehearsing King Henry, whispered me ^Tbis
gentleman^s an actor * ^

One rehearsal alone was allowed him, which was thus a
source of annoyance and trial. The actors were contemptuous
and made merry at his figure by observing : Who is the
little man in the capes The night of his triumph was
January 26th, 1814

This was the only channel through which the public were
informed of the approachmg debut) and the actor was so
unprepared, that, on the morning when the announcement
appeared, he, dispirited, furious, and rendered desperate by the
wretched condition to which the malice of the committee had
reduced him, sallied forth from Cecil Street with a half -formed
determination to commit suicide. Fortunately, however, he
was met by a friend who acquainted him with the welcome
news.

The committee, after the tide of success had begun to roll,
of course loaded him with attention and civilities. Byron
became his rapturous admirer, and made him costly presents.
At the end of the season, the management was enabled to
announce a sum of 18,OOOZ. profit, and the proprietors received

ITEW DBUEY LAISTE THEATEE-KEAF

389

tteir five per cent dividend At tlie end of the season^ 1816^ lie
was presented by the company and committee, in the green-room,
with a splendid cup, valued at 300 guineas.

During the season 1813-14, the gross receipts amounted to
68,329Z. Is 6d , of which Keanes sixty-eight nights produced
32,942Z, 12s, 6d, Tet, on the season, there was a loss of
20,000Z

Mr F. Hawkins has written an entertaining life of this
great actor But no idea could be given of the wild extra-
vagance of this strange being. At a sale of autographs some
years ago, a number of his letters were disposed of, and such
scraps as these were given in the catalogue

From Douglas, Isle of Man, September 2nd, he wrote •
I will postpone will-making till a future opportunity In
consequence of domestic disagreements, he says, I am not
sure whether I shall not be compelled to buy an American
annuity, and retiie to some cottage in the Canadas — ^the
world forgetting^ and ^by the world forgot,^ etc On
September 10th, 1826, he sent an account of his success m
America • Though money is made by engagements, it is a

^ long way to get to them . He is receiving the homage

of lords, generals, colonels, the governor and his lady, etc
This all reminds me of ancient times, but I am seized at the
same moment with the d cholera morbus . . He some-

times netts 200Z. a night I am enchanted with the Canadas ;
the beauty of the country — not equalled in the world — the
pohtesse of the French, the hospitality of the English; the
deference paid to talent, and all associated under the British
flag, commands an attachment bordering on romance , , We
differ on one point, you lament the fall of Elliston, I rejoice at
it. The tricker IS tricked n I From Quebec, September 25th,
1826 ^^The profits are great when I act, but the drawbacks
immense , I have lost nine days of my present engagement
from the infernal cholera morbus I have been obliged to pay
a consultation of physicians, who, with perfect smigfioid, told
me to prepare for the worst, and asked me whether I was
Protestant or Catholic, that they might send a reverend gentle-

890 A ISTEW HISTOET OP THE ENGLISH STAGE.

man to perform the last acts of consolation ... So I got up^
shook my feathers, went and acted Eichard the Third to a
brilliant audience, and have been improving in health ever
since ^ Prom Pans, July 11th, 1824 , Eelative to the action
Cox V. Kean,^^ he says, I daresay many of my letters are
very silly, and will create some laughter in a court of justice,
but they are not more preposterous than those of greater
men, who have been, like me, the victims of the amoi paovum
honestas , for instance, the Duke of York, the King, Paget,
Anglesea, etc etc.^^ Prom Dublin, August 26th, 1824
cannot send you any money, for the best of all possible reasons,
I have none to send — for the first time in my theatrical career
The remainder of the letter is occupied with full details, in
relation to the Cox affair, and relates several circumstances
which do not excuse his offence, in either a moral or legal view
of it, but afford a measure of palliation, an opinion which the
jury seemed to entertain upon tbe evidence adduced, by their
verdict of one fay thing damages Prom Belfast, November
26th, 1824 Eelative to the ^^Cox^^ affair, positively
declare against the use of Mr. Drury's name; I owe every-
thing to the family, and cannot consent to blend the sacred
name with two such rascals as myself and the alderman with
other passages strongly recriminatory of the other side.

In 1814 was to be exhibited an unlucky instance of the
lack of judgment or of information in the amateur manage-
ment The leading lady at the Dublin Theatre was Miss
Walstein, and during her illness a young actress had taken
her place with extraordinary success Munden, who had
played with her in Dubhn, spoke of her everywhere with
admiration, but the committee chose to think the older-
established lady was a more certain chance, and engaged
her. She proved a correct but ordinary actress. The other,
who was Miss O^Neill, was secured by the rival house, and at
once took Mrs Siddons^s place With that great actress she
was, of course, not to be compared, but she had extraordinary

NEW DEUEY LANE THEATEE— EEAN

891

powers of sympathy and nature^ and at once took the
town.*

Lord Byron had taken np the cause of Mrs Mardyn,
an attractive-looking actress, and it was stated that this
advocacy was one of the grounds for his separation from
his wife.

One of the most interesting and ever touching scenes is
that of the farewell or letirement of a great performer As
Garrick used to say, it was a species of death It is
the taking leave of a world never to be seen again. That
of Kemble and his great sister were attended by every tribute
of respect and admiration that could be devised On June 29fch,
1812, Mrs. Siddons had withdrawn, though this was not to
prove her last appearance Her bi other remained until
June 23rd, 1817, when to the most flattering testimonials
of regard and admiration — a public banquet, a handsome
present. Talma coming from Pans, etc — he also retired.
She was only fifty-seven and he sixty-seven, an early with-
drawal in comparison with the long ingloiious Imgermgs on
to seventy and eighty that mark our era With these great
performers may be said to have ended the great period of
acting, founded on theatres with traditions and systems, and
fixed corps of actors. After them, all began to disband
swiftly. Managing and acting was henceforth to be thrown
open to anyone with moderate gifts and assurance, and later,
in our time, to anyone with money and leisure

The various and numerous officers of Drury Lane and
Oovent Garden were remarkable personages in their way, and
seemed, to a certain extent, characters out of the comedies of

* Miss O’Neill and lier relations, it is well known, supplied the hint of
Mr Thackeray’s The Fothenngay and Captain Costigan She later left the
stage, on marrying Mr Becher, afterwards Six William Becher, and died six or
seven years ago

392 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

the time There was Hall, for instance, the acting manager
of Ooyent Garden—'' Tommy HulV' a worthy man, who was
always put forward to make announcements or apologies
to the audience From this his friend Dibdin says

He had acquired a habit of framing all his speeches,
however private or familiar his audience, in the precise style of
his theatrical apologies One night of public rejoicing he
gave the mob in Martlett Court, Bow Street, where he then
resided, a barrel of porter, and, moblike, as soon as they
had drunk it, they began to break his windows in order to
get more Mr Hull addressed the crowd exactly in the
nrbane and gentlemanly tone and manner which he always so
naturally assumed on the stage "Ladies and gentlemen, I
lament exceedingly to be under the necessity of offering an
apology this evening , but I am obliged to state that all the
stiong beer has disappeared, and in this predicament, having,
at a veiy shoit notice, procui’ed a cask of smalls we hope to
meet with your usual indulgence^

Eaymond, the well-known prompter at Drury Lane, where
he long held office, was a man of distinct character, one of the
last on whom the traditions of the place seem to have operated.
He was born "Tamie GranV^ in Scotland, in the year 1765, and
set out in life, like Dodsley, as a servant. He went to Ireland
in the following of Lord Westmoi eland, after which time,
getting bitten with the stage, he changed his name to Eaymond,
and took regularly to the profession, having laboured assidu-
ously and successfully to get rid of his broad Scotch accent.
He succeeded in getting an engagement at Drury Lane, where
he fairly established himself. As his friend Pryce Gordon
said of him, "his literary attainments were quite wondeiful,
considering the circumstances of his early life,^*' and, as I
have said, his account of Elliston is extraordinary for its.
workmanship, spirit, and humour.

ISTEW BETJEY LANE THEATEE-KEAN

393

Eaymond^s fate was somehow to be connected with that of
the great establishment he served He was^ indeed^ an
excellent specimen of the useful trusted servants who are so
rai ely found When the incapable committee was mismanaging
Drury Lane, we are told, he was, as might be supposed, like “ a
toad under a harrow/^ stimulated by his own taste and zeal on
the one hand, and thwarted by the opposing interests and
discordant opinions of the committee ^^For many months he
lived and slept within the walls of the theatre, and often, for
nights together, had no repose but what he snatched at intervals
on the sofa in the manager's room These labours, combined
with unquestionable taste and ability, were, nevertheless,
unequal to his position, and having at length made up his
mind that he could not usefully serve so many masters, he
retired to his house in Chester Street, Grosvenor Place, where
he devoted the night to a letter of remonstrance to the com-
mittee, and had pioceeded through many pages, when his
anxiety of mind and his exhaustion of body brought on a stroke
of paralysis, and he was found extended on the floor, at an early
hour of the morning, and expired within a few hours

A more remarkable person, however, was Peake, the
treasurer of Drury Lane, and also author of innumerable
successful dramas His friend Planch6 thus describes him

He was not a wit in the true sense of the word Theie is
not a scintilla of wit in any of his dramas or in his conversa-
tion , but thei e was some good fun in a few of his farces, and
he had a happy knack of fitting his actors. His farces were
usually damned the first night, and recovered themselves
wondeifully afterwards A striking instance of this was ^^A
Hundred-Pound Note,^^ at Oovent Garden, in which the conun-
drums, bandied between Power and Keeley, were violently
hissed on the first representation, and received with roais of
laughter subsequently His extreme good temper and obliging
nature made him a universal favourite. He was devotedly

2 D

VOL II

394 A HEW HISTOEY OE THE EHaLISH STAGE

attached to Mr. Arnold, wliose bond for 200Z, in act^nowledg-
ment of bis long and faithful service, he generously thrust into
the breakfast-room fire before him, the morning after the
burning down of the Lyceum Theatre (February 16th, 1830),
saying, ^^Tou have lost all by fire, let this go too He died
a poor man A singular circumstance (oddly adds Mr. Planche),
considering that he had been for so many years treasuier of a
theatie

He was a dry fellow (goes on Mr Planch6) that Billy
Dunn, a great character During the many years he was
treasurer of Drury Lane I don^t suppose he once witnessed
a peifoimance , but regularly, after the curtain had fallen on a
new piece, it mattered not of what description, he would let
himself thiough with his pass-key from the fiont of the
house, as if he had sat it out, and on being asked his opinion,
invariably answer, after a long pause and a pioportionate
pinch of snuff, Wants cutting Nine times out of ten he
was right The trouble of exti acting a direct reply from him,
at any time or concerning anything, was remarkable I
called one morning at the theatre, on my way to the City, to
ask him a question about writing orders on some particular
night I was told he was in the treasury, and accoidmgly
ran up to it He was alone at his desk counting cheques
Would there be any objection, Dunn, to my sending a fiiend
or two to the boxes on such a night ^ He looked at me,
but made no answer. I waited perhaps five more minutes,
and then, without repeating my inquiry, or speaking another
word, walked quietly out of the room and went about my
other business Eeturning between two and three in the
afternoon I ascertained from the hall-keeper that Mr Dunn
was still in the theatre I mounted the stairs again, enteied
the tieasury, and found him, as before, alone I stood per-
fectly silent while he looked at me and took the customary
pinch of snuff, after which he diawled out, ^^No, I should
think not , some four hours having elapsed since I asked
him the question

It may be mentioned in this place that theie was a special
box at Drury Lane known as the ""Numberer^s Box,^^ and the
office of numberer was long filled by Hardham, a snuff maker

ITEW DEURY LAKE THEATBE-KBAN

395

during the daytime. Garrick was good-natured enough to
direct attention to a particular kind o£ snuff he sold hy allu-
sions from the stage, thus actually making ^^No, 37^^ cele-
brated Another of his actors was a wine merchant, to whom
he said one night on the boards, If you could put a little of
that excellent spirit which is in your wine into your acting —
and with the same wholesome result

A player who contributed much to the successful working
of the theatre about this time was a hard-working, patient,
dramatic haok^ Thomas Dibdin by name, who, without genius,
knew thoroughly what the French call ^^the science of the
boards No better specimen could be given of the pains-
taking drudge who could be depended on to supply what was
wanted, in the best style and at the shortest notice. There is
something almost pathetic in the incredible labour of this
writer, who was a country actor, stage-manager at Drury Lane
and the Haymarket, manager of theatres himself, translator,
adapter, constructor of pantomimes, tragedies, burlettas,
anything that was desired, yet all ending in ruin and bank-
ruptcy When he began life, earning a wretched crust in the
country theatres, burdened with a family, he went through
many hardships, even to sharing, as it was called, the
candle-ends, which was all that could be shared at the end
of a performance But he was ever cheerful and hopeful,
and it IS pleasant to read how the first break came which led
him on to London and to prosperity A successful farce
attracted the notice of the managers He hurried to London
Not only were his pieces taken, but he and his wife were
engaged as performers From that time he continued to
supply pieces in the most extraordinary profusion, all for the
most part fairly successful, to the number of two hundred * He
wrote for every theatre and supplied every form of entertain-
ment. There was this advantage in the great patent theatres,

2 D 2

396 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

that they furnished an opening for dramatic talent, new pieces
being required almost every day He says

Of the above nearly two hundred theatrical productions^
ten were failures, and not acted more than four or five times
each on an average , sixteen were honoured with extraordinary
success, and produced very great profits to Oovent Garden,
Drury Lane, the Haymarket, the English Opera, and three of
the minor theatres, the remainder were all extremely well
received, and answered my purpose and the expectations of
those who employed me Nearly fifty of the pieces are pub-
lished, and books of the songs of thirty more It was formerly
the custom for authors to dedicate their works to patrons of
rank for the avowed purpose of receiving a cadeaii in return
With this view, I inscribed certain productions of mine to the
Duke of Leeds, Mr Harris, Sir Henry Hawley, Mr George
Banking, Mr. Pladgate, etc

As a specimen of what can be done by energy, he tells us
the following

I received a French piece on Tuesday night My benefit
was on the following Monday, Fitzwilliam advised I should
play the piece for my benefit I urged the impossibility. He
urged the kind devotedness of the actors But then, I had
the piece to translate and adapt, and the songs to write, and
there were three new scenes at least to be painted, cum multis
aU%s, such as dresses, properties, etc to prepare Notwith-
standing, we concluded that an effort ought to be made, and
then went to Drury Lane to see a ci-devant Surrey performer
of the name of Weston make his dehut, I, who was still very
unwell, translated the piece the next day in bed, read it on the
Thursday, under the title of The Invisible Witness , or, The
Chapel m the Wood,^^ and produced it on the Monday After
which, it was acted during the remainder of the season —
about thirty nights.

The story of this hardworking man is worthy of study,
though not encouraging. It may be said that there is no pro-

NEW DEUEY LANE THEATEE—KEAN.

397

fession which offers more examples of that patient, perseyering
labour which leads eventually to the highest success, and which
IS attested by the career of the brilliant actor who now holds
the first place on the stage But what came so suddenly fell
away almost as fast After years of drudgery came embarrass-
ment, harsh treatment by managers, haughty claims and
dismissal, attempts at management, bankruptcy, and finally
ruin

CHAPTER III.

EISE OE THE MINOE THEATRES.

During all the years of amateur mauagement the theatre had
heen sunk in debt to the amount of 90^0001, ^ In their
desperation they were inclined to impute their disasters to
any cause but their own misgovernmeiit They now fancied
that the minor theatres were interfering with their business^
and determined to appeal for protection against them. The
condition of these houses was curious and doubtful, but
of late years they had been looked on indulgently and even
encouraged. At the beginning of the century the patents
were still suj0S.oiently protected, and the only theatres which
were tolei'ated (excluding, of course, the Haymarket, which
ranked with the grand houses) were the Circus, Astley^s
Amphitheatre (now the Olympic), Sadler^s Wells, and the
Royalty, of which three certamly were rather devoted to
shows and spectacles than to plays There were, moreover,
what are called summer theati es — their licences only allowing
them to open at that time

The eccentric Elliston was to do good service in fighting
the battles of the minor theatres against the great patent
houses This contest he carried on during a course of yeais
in his own peculiar style, during which time he laid his

EISE OF THE MIHOB THEATRES.

399

grievances before the public by appeals to the Chamberlain
and others He had become the proprietor of the Olympic
Theatre about the year 1812, and by skilful management and
the pioduction of a couple of successful pieces succeeded in
drawing the town The proprietor of the Sans Pareil in the
Stiand (now the Adelphi) was almost as fortunate, and it was
this extraordinary success that was now to lOuse the ]ealousy
and peihaps envy of the great patent theatres The small
houses had, however, been fortunate in the existing Lord
Chamberlain — ^Lord Dartmouth — who, in 1809, had granted a
hcence for what was called Summer English Opera to
Mr Arnold for the Lyceum Theatre, and had promised to
grant another for '^Winter English Opera to Colonel Greville,
who had already held a licence of a limited kind The
licence to Astley seems comprehensive enough, and was a
contribution to the gradual enfeebling of the patents that was
going on steadily It ran

I do hereby give leave and licence unto Philip Astley, Esq ,
to have performed, for his benefit, at the Olympic and musical
Pavilion in Newcastle Street, in the Strand, within the liberties
of Westminster, the entertainments of music, dancing, bur-
lettas, spectacles, pantomimes, and horsemanship, for one
year fiom the 5th day of July, 1812, to the 5th day of
July, 1813 Given under my hand and seal this 1st day of
July, 1812, in the fifty-second year of His Majesty^s reign

Ingeam HEETroED (ls.)

The licence was later limited to the period between
Michaelmas and Easter

Astley passed to the Surrey, where he performed ‘‘ equine
dramas of an exciting kind. In 1816, the old Lyceum
was -pulled down and the present finely-designed build-
ing erected. Notwithstandmg the supposed advance in
architecture, and the knowledge of theatrical resources, it

400 A NEW HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

IS still the finest and most beautifully- designed tbeatre
in London, and lends itself^ by its fine lines and spacious
dimensions, to displays of scenic effect and admirable
acting, wliiob its accomplisbed manager inspires and
supplies

As soon as tins splendid building was completed, at a cost
of some 80,000Z , anotber Englisb opera was set on foot, the
manager proposing “ to encourage native talent, and a Scbool
for English. Music under the express sanction of His Majesty.’^
But the patentees, thus attacked on all sides, again clamorously
interfeied It was urged, and certainly with some reason, that
English opera was but a colourable form — being an English
drama with music and dialogue, whereas Italian was all music.
They actually succeeded in limiting his summer season to four
months, and the rest of the year had to be filled up with
shows, etc A few years saw it tenanted by Mathews, in a
form of entertainment then almost a novelty.

But it was not until the year 1818 that they gathered their
forces for a combined attack, and appealed to the Chamberlain,
Lord Hertford, to interpose, and withdraw the licences from
the two successful theatres, the Sans Pared and the Olympic,
The reasons they urged were principally these :

That the Olympic and Sans Pared have become theatres
for the nightly performance of the regular drama That the
memorialists, with all the respectable persons involved in the
interests of Drury Lane and Oovent Garden Theatres, must
suffer certain rum^^ if the Olympic and Sans Paied
Theatres be continued That on the faith of the con-
tinuance of an entire monopoly of theatrical entertain-
ment (as such appears to be the meaning attempted to be
annexed to the words “patent rights “a million of money
has, of late years, been embarked in Drury Lane and Oovent
Garden Theatres, “for the support of the national drama
That the patent rights of Drury Lane and Coveut Gaiden

BISE OE THE MIHOB THEATBES

401

Theatres have been swept away/^ and shaken to the foun-
dation/^ bj the authority of the Lord Chambeilain, and by
the grant of the Lord Ohamberlain^s licences — that although
these events aie attributable to ^^the authority of the Lord
Chamberlain/^ and to the effect of the licences granted by
him, still, that the proprietors of the Olympic and Sans Paieil
Theaties have justly “forfeited their licences/' because they
have been the authors of the mischief, “ by the entiie change
of the line of performances from those expressed in the terms
of their licences , and that those theatres ought to be
suppressed because their licences have “been scandalously
abused ; while the licences themselves, as originally granted,
are alleged to be the cause of all this unheard-of desolation
That ifc can easily be proved that builetta is distinguished from
tragedy, comedy, opera, farce, etc by its being a piece in
verse, accompanied by music That, for example, the pieces
of “The Dragon of Wantley/^ “Midas," “The Golden Pippin/'
and “Poor Vulcan/^ are burlettas, and “totally diffeient^^
from the pieces acted at the Olympic and Sans Pared Theaties.
That a serious injury is occasioned to Drury Lane and Oovent
Garden Theatres, because, as it can be proved, a sum exceeding
150Z, on an average, is taken nightly at the doors of the
Olympic and Sans Pared Theatres, meaning, as I apprehend,
the amount of the receipts of both theatres, nightly, and not
of each That the “great increase in the size" of the Olympic
and Sans Paied Theatres, since first licensed, is one of the
chief points complained of, as the memorialists “ suffer in the
exact ratio to that increase/^

In 1819, however, when the attraction of the great actor*
began to wane, the receipts at Drury Lane fell off, principally
owing to the selection of new and indifferent plays This was
clearly attributable to the incapable management of the amateurs
They had reduced the prices, which was their chief blunder ;
for, as Mr Bunn lays it down “ I have never found, from

* They had given Kean volnntaiily 201 a night for three years—thongh
his engagement was for half the time, and he praised their hberality — when
nearly 500Z a mght was coming into the house But at the close of that
term he had re-engaged at 50Z a night, and did not ** draw.”

402 A NEW HISTORY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

a long experience^ theatrically speakings that the price of
the article at all interfered with the demand for it — the
)jiibl%a is not to he dete'iied from going to the play because
the admission to the boxes is 7s,, any moie than it is to be
att'i acted theo e^ because the admission is only bs The
quality of the matenel, and not the price, is the thing
inquiied into/^ Sagacious woids

With this tide of disaster they could not cope, and the
company were at last invited to meet the committee, who
suggested a reduction of all salaries over 4Z. The players
were filled with consternation, but were told by Loid
Yaimouth, the Eegent^s fiiend, that the house must other-
wise be closed ^^Then let it close ’ cried Dowton* fiom
the crowd , my voice is but one amongst many , but I will
never consent to abandon a single farthing ” He then offered
to advance a draft for 500Z, on secuiity

The season lingeied on for thirty additional nights, Kean
playing to 871 receipts The only thing to be done was that
the amateurs should resign and give way to professional
men A subscription had to be set on foot to liquidate the
debts of this ]unto, and new managers were invited When
this became known, applications from all quarters poured in.
The great actor himself made a pioposal He offeied 10,000L
a year But,^^ he said, I shut my doors against all com-
mittees, expecting an immediate surrender of their keys and
all privileges in possession I select my own officers, my own
performers, ^my reason^s in my will,^ and can only be
accountable to the piopiietors for payment of the rent, and to
the public for their amusements. This is my offer — if they
like it, so if not, farewell Read this aloud to the proprietors,
and as much in earnest as I write it

* Dowton, who seems to have been somewhat miserlj, had objected befoie
to subscribe to the Kean testimomal, saying with some wit, “No, you may cup
him, but you shan’t bleed me ”

EISE OF THE MIHOE THEATEES.

m

But it seemed scarcely cliivalrous tEat lie should recom-
mend himself by assailing them “The public/^ he said^ ^^had
seen the mismanagement which has brought this magnificent
theatre to luin Its lestoration can only be achieved by a
popular professional man I now stand foiward to devote my
property^ reputation^ and experience to this great cause
Unhappily, neither property nor experience avail for manage-
ment unless there be a due restraint of manneis^ and no on©
would have been so unsuited to be cast for the part of manager
as Mr Kean

But there was another candidate^ an extraordinaiy
being — in his way clever, eccentric, a brilliant comedian — *
Eobert William Elliston, who ever seems through his gay
jpeQsiflage to be a soit of walking Ohailes Surface, In other
lespects he was a kind of theatrical Micawbei, viewing
everything coulem de oose^ investing every scheme with a
faiiy-like magnificence The chronicle left of his doings by
his stage-manager, Eaymond, written with corresponding spirit
and even wit, makes one of the most extraoidinary records
conceivable It is a unique/^ as Lamb would say

There weie four offers made for the management, by
Dibdin, Kean, Elliston, and Arnold Arnold^s was hardly a
serious one, as he required to be indemnified against loss.
Elliston^s naturally appeared to be the most suitable^ as he
brought money into the concern Mr Place, in his MS , tells
us that this was no less a sum than30,000Z — an independence
He paid 2000Z. down, and found security for 3000Z It has
often been a subject of wonder, and has been spoken of as a
proof of Elliston^ s skill in management, how he contrived to
finance the theatre so successfully, paying salaries, lent, etc
punctually for so many years Mr Place furnishes the clu‘>
Every farthing of the 80,000? capital was dissipated, and he was
to leave it a ruined man, and without a shilling in the world *

404 A NEW HISTOET OP THE ENGLISH STAGE

This was one more instance of the ruinous infatuation of
theatrical management, and it is easy to see that the flighty
and ambitious manager thought the loss nothing as compared
with the luxury of issuing his commands and flourishing as
the monarch of old Drury During his course he was to pay
65,0001 in rent to the grasping committee, who, for a delay in
paying 5000Z , promptly evicted him.

Not an hour had elapsed since the publication of the notice
for letting, when Elliston made a visit to his friend Winston
“Drury Lane Theatre is mine^ cried he, “for it is enough
for me that it is to be had — the theatre is mine He sat
down with his confederate, and drew up a code of management,
which, for clearness, foresight, equity, and spirit might have
been considered a model of theatrical jurisprudence He then
sent in his proposals — viz to take the theatre for fourteen years,
to expend 7000Z on the building during the time, to pay
8000Z lent for the first year, 9000Z for the second and thud,
and 10,000Z for the remainder of his term. These were
accepted

Lamb, indeed, thoroughly appreciated his humour, and
described him as delightful on this occasion “Have you
heard the news ^ said the actor proudly. “ I am the lessee
of Diury Lane ! and hurried on He at once, in his magnifi-
cent style, made application to authors and actors, among
them to Sir W Scott to write, to Mrs, Siddons to return to
the stage , but they were for the most part declined Miss
Kelly, also applied to, dictated the following singular conditions,
which Mrs Siddons would not have ventured on

Por three seasons ; with liberty for Miss Kelly to absent
herself duimg the six weeks in Lent, to have the exclusive
use of her di esses Salary to be 20Z a week, but to be raised
to equal any other actress who may be engaged To have the
most desirable dressing-room, with not more than one other
lady, of the highest rank and respectability, the liberty to
decline any new part or character, and also such parts in old

EISE OF THE MIHOB THEATBES

405

pieces as slie does not consider adapted to lier powers, to
en]oy all piivileges and indulgences granted to the most
favoured peiformer, to be exempted fiom the condition of the
sick clause, whenever sickness, etc shall arise out of the
exercise of her piofession, or any consequence thereof

The house was now newly decorated, and the lessee gave a
ball and supper to exhibit the improvements On October 4th,
it was opened with ^^Wild Oats^^ The receipts were 638Z,
and his first season produced 44,053? The company consisted
of the following

In tragedy Kean, Pope, Holland, Powell, Foote, Thompson,
Mrs West, Mrs Robinson, Mrs Bgerton, Mrs Knight

In comedy Elliston, Dowton, Munden, Harley, Oxberry,
Knight, Russell, Butler, Gattie, Hamblin, Barnard, Penley,
Mordaunt, Hughes, Meredith, Elliott, Keeley, Mrs Glover,
Miss Kelly, Mrs Edwin,Mrs Mardyn, Mrs Hailowe, Mrs.Orger
In opera Braham, T Cooke, Thorne, G Smith, Maokeon,
Miss Carew, Miss Oubitt, Mrs Bland, Miss Povey, Mrs Austin
Artists Marinari, Andrews and Son, Dixon, etc
The musical department under the direction of Kelly,
Leader, Smart, etc

In the month of February, 1821, we find George the Fourth
making his first state visit to Drury Lane Theatre, the per-
formances being ^^Artaxerxes,^^ with Mr Poolers farce, Who^s
Who The King, accompanied by his royal brothers the
Dukes of York and Clarence, was punctual — a quarter before
seven o^clock, but a considerable time afterwards elapsed
before he thought proper to enter his box This was the first
occasion of his appearing m public since his accession, and the
uncertain result of his reception was evidently a question of
some disquiet to His Majesty The pause which the King had
occasioned was evidently embarrassing to his whole suite, of
which His Majesty appeared suddenly to become conscious;
when, with a movement almost partakmg of a rush, he ad-

406 A 1^-EW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

vanced to the front of the royal box In a moment all doubt
was at an end The King’s reception was enthusiastic and
general His Majesty, in descending, made some allusion to
his sly enemy, the gout. I have it my self ^ youi Majesty/^
responded the manager *

On Saturday, the 21st of April, Lord Byron’s tragedy,
^Marino Paliero,’ was published by Murray, and on Wednesday,
the 25th, the play was represented by Elliston in Drury Lane
The drama, sheet by sheet from the compositor’s hands, was
brought fiom the pimting-office to the theatre, and the whole
play, in fact, studied before publication On Wednesday (the
day of repiesentation) the formal licence came from the
Chamberlain’s Office, but within half an hour afteiwaids a
notice reached Elliston from the publisher’s solicitor, announcing
that the Lord Chancellor had, on application, granted an in-
junction against the acting of ^Marino Faliero’ Elliston,
with his wonted activity, sprang into a hackney-coach, with
the view of driving to Hamilton Place, that he might see
Lord Eldon himself on the subject The tardiness of the
driver, however, ill suited his impatience Out again of the
vehicle he jumped, making far better way on foot to his lord-
ship’s residence, where he arrived m very time to catch his
lordship by the skirts of his clothing as he was mounting the
steps of his own door Here the ^ defendant ’ at once entered
on the merits of his case, and his lordship declared the Court
sitting — Lord Eldon on the upper step and Elliston on the
pavement — ^the one all patience, the other all animation The

* There are some delightful instances of this lofty familiarity of his recorded
jVIr. Bunn shall tell us of one, -when a statue to Shakespeaie was proposed, in
which the King took an interest Mr Mathews, oonsidenng that the leading
people in both the patent theatres should be consulted, diiected Sii Charles
Long, Sir George Beaumont, and Sir Prancis Freeling to asoeitam Elliston^s
sentiments on the subject As soon as these distinguished individuals (who had
come direct from, and were going diiect back to the palace) had deliveied
themselves of their mission, Elliston replied Very well, gentlemen, leave the
papers with me, and I will talk over the business with His Ma3esty **

EISE OF THE MIHOE THEATEES

407

Chancellor hesitated At length Elliston so far succeeded that
the judge suspended the injunction gi anted against the acting
of the play for that night

The well-known spectacular exhibition of ^'The Ooiona-
tion^^ — one of the most amusing, fantastic projects, truly
Ellistonian, was now to be undertaken He took hold of the
idea, that as the Drury Lane company were Sis Majesti/s
servants, they were directly and of right concerned in the
great ceremonial, and, indeed, he pressed that they should
have their place in the procession. But he did not, as it was
to be expected, prevail. He then determined to have his
coronation on the boards of Drury Lane.

Application he now made to Lord Gwydyr, Sir Geoige
Nayler, and other gentlemen especially concerned in the
arrangements , all of whom conceded every facility to Elliston
and his artist, by giving them free access to the preparations,
and allowing drawings and models to be taken at the will of
the parties In fact, he began to look not only on the Drury
preparations as movements in his individual glorification, hut
all that was going on at Westminster also , so that his senses
positively reeled under the weight of this potent sirup.
Nearly two hundred men in the employ of the India Company
were engaged at Drury Lane on this occasion Bach man was
known in the theatre by the office or character to which he
was appointed. During the run of this spectacle, various
amusing characteristic anecdotes were in circulation respect-
ing the Great Lessee,^^ when, amid the acclamations of hot-
pressed Drury, threading his way through the upturned
wondering eyes^^ of all London m the pit, he exclaimed,
Bless you, my people ^ he believed himself no less than
The Lord^s anointed.*’^

A coronation medal was now struck by instruction of the
Great Lessee, and specimens were presented for several nights
to the first two hundred persons who entered the theatre
Next followed another hizai'te incident. The Queen died on
the 8th of August, and the day after the memorable funeral
reports were very generally in circulation that Her Majesty^s

408 A NEW HISTOET OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

death had been occasioned by poison, administered to her in a
cup of coffee at Drury Lane Theatre by the connivance of
Elliston That the Queen partook neither of coffee nor
refreshment of any kind was no refutation of this wild
report.

What next followed has the air of pantomime — the two
figures seem ever bemused with the remains of drink.
Kean, returned from America with G P Cooke’s head ^
which he had secured there, had no sooner landed than he
addressed proposals to his brother-actor It began

Liverpoob Coronation Day

My dbak Elliston,

With those feelings which an Englishman can alone
understand, I have touched once again my native land I
shall be at the stage-door of Drury at noon on Monday next.
Do you think a few nights now would be of advantage to
you ? I am full of health and ambition, both of which are
at your service, or they will run not

B Kean.

Playbills of an enormous size were, m a few hours, posted
over London, announcing Keanes return from America, and
his reappearance on the ensuing Monday as Richard the
Third On the same sheet was advertised his Magnificent
representation of the Coronation,” which only the day before
had been positively abandoned On the Monday, at about
noon, a special courier announced the progress of Kean
towards the door of Drury Lane, and within a quarter of
an hour the cavalcade was in sight Six outriders, in a
medley costume of all nations of the earth that do not go
absolutely tattooed, constituted the vanguard, then came
Elliston himself in sohtary grandeur, in his own carnage,
drawn by four grays The hero of the triumph next — Kean
himself — ^likewise in his own carriage, supported by Russell
and Hughes m cooked hats, drawn by four blacks John
Cooper followed, drawn also by four skewbald or piebald A
troop of horsemen formed the flank, composed of bruisers,,

EISE OF THE MIl^OE THEATEES.

409

jockeys, tavern-keepers, dog-figkters, and otker friends of tlie
drama, and tke wkole was brouglit up by the keteiogeneous
rabble wkich tke progressive affair had, from pillar to post,
enlisted in its service

It was about tkis time tkat Stanfield and Eoberts were
adding to tke glories of tke tkeatre by tkeir fine scenery
Indeed, tke line of scene-painters at tkis house kas been
remarkable, and some of tke old stock-scenes are still used.
Tke work of Beverley and otkeis is remaikable for tie
colouring, rick, sober, and subdued, and throwing out tke more
brilliant figures of tke actors with good effect Even with age,
and somewhat faded, they seem to gam in mellowness like old
tapestry or furniture

In 1 823, Macready made kis appearance at tke tkeatre he
was later to diiect He chose tkeaitificial dramas of Sheridan
Knowles, Virgmius and Cams Gracchus We wonder now
at tke enthusiasm with which these perfoimances once were
greeted Tke extraordinary sensitiveness of this actor, and kis
disagreeable temper, revealed with much extenuation an kis
diaries, was exhibited later in connection with another play
of Knowleses, William Tell Eaymond tells us what
occuried

Tke fifth act was in rehearsal on tke morning previous to
representation, when Macready abruptly quitted tke theatre,
declaiing tke play was not in a state for acting, and tkat he
consequently should not play tke part The consternation of
the manager may be imagined A messenger, with a letter
from Elliston, was despatched to Macready at his residence,
Hampstead Heath, but he returned with the forbidding reply
that Mr Macready still positively refused to play on the
ensuing evening But the production of the play for the
11th was still a vital question with the lessee , one effort more
was resolved on, and Elliston determined on going himself to
Hampstead Efforts were yet stirring until five o^ clock, but
m vain. At length, however, Oalcraft, in most impressive

410 A NEW HISTOET OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

language^ Legged tlie trial of tlie play as a personal favom,
pleading the serious exigencies of the establishment Macready
yielded^ the play was acted, and no diama on a first repre-
sentation had ever been more triumphant

Having engaged Kean, the well-known Oox scandal un-
luckily followed It seems difiicult to keep pace with the
extravagances of this pair — tragedian and comedian Kean
was dining at the Theatrical Fund Dinner, the Duke of
Clarence in the chair, when the infuriated Alderman Oox tried
to come and deal vengeance on the man who had injured him
The actor drew a pistol from beneath his coat ^ When Young
was engaged to act with him, Kean addressed this protest

Your treasurer has written to me, by which I find Mr Young
IS engaged for thirty nights to act wnth me Now this is what
I call an impudent proceeding The throne is mine ^ — mine !
I say — no one shall come near it , and I will maintain it even
at the expense of expatiiation To whatever quarter of the
globe I may sail, all shall acknowledge me the fiist English
actor

These two great performers, however, met, but with a
jealous dislike on one side and a cold dignity and restraint on
the other. Young, it was agreed, had the victory, and the
more famous actor declined to continue playing with him *

* I possess the following curious notice

To THE Theateical Wored and the Oueious generally,

THE BEDSTEAD
on which

EDMUND KEAN, THE TRAGEDIAN,

Breathed his last

This relic, once the property of the greatest genius that evei
graced the British Stage,

Will be RAFFLED FOR by 40 Members,

At 5s each, at

Mr Phillips’, Swan Tavern and Lord Dover Hotel,

Hnngerford Market,

On Tuesday Evening Next, the 16th inst
At Seven o’clock to the Minnte,

The Proprietor and Winner to Spend Halp-i-Gtuinea Each
The Bedstead can be seen on application at the Bar, by Tickets, Sixpence each,
which may be had in Refreshments

CHAPTER IV

THE EALL OE ELLISTOH

After the season of 1822 had closed — ^not a successful one —
the heedless manager determined to remodel his theatie on the
most wholesale scale When it is considered that the outlay
was 22,000Z; and the whole completed within eight weeks, the
extent of the operations may he conceived Vast as Drury
Lane appears now, it will be seen how much larger it was
before these changes were made. A model of the intended
improvements was sent to the King, and the work of
demolition was at once begun Within a few days the whole
interior of the building was one mass of rubbish, the walls
being laid bare to the very back of the boxes The recon-
struction of the theatre was from the designs of Mr. Beazley.
The parapet of the new boxes was brought forwaid five feet,
contracting the pit, consequently, to the same limits The
entire ceiling was lowered some fourteen feet, an opeiaticn
which excited great interest and some apprehension The
woik was, howevei, most successfully accomplished. The
saloon, to its full extent, was lined with looking-glass, the
pilasters representing Sienna marble. Some years before the

2 E 2

412 A NEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

present clumsy portico Lad been added^ but for tbis design he
was scarcely responsible He had originally designed a hand-
some architectural one With this may be contrasted the
recent remodelling of the Lyceum, when the whole inteiior
was put on crutches/^ walls levelled and underpinned, and
the accommodation largely extended^ which was all done
within a few weeks, the work going on night and day^ with
two shifts of workmen

To commemorate the almost incredible expedition with
which the work had been accomplished, a brass plate was
deposited in the centre of the pit, bearing the following
inscription

GEOEGE IV KING

THEATllE BOTAL, DBUEY LANE

The interior of this National Theatre was entirely pulled down
and rebuilt in the space of fifty-eight days, and reopened
on the 12th of October, 1822,

BY

Eobeet WiLLiAJt Elliston, Esq.

The manager, though all the while he was showing
symptoms of something like mental aberration, was adroit
enough to make some lucky hits He brought out Weberns
masterpiece, Dei Fieischutz,^^ not m a maimed and mangled
foim, as at the rival house, he engaged Oatalani , and
finally produced a spectacular piece, the reputation of which
has become historical, The Cataract of the Ganges,^^*in
which a daring lady rode her steed up a cataract The Italian
singei^s engagement was a failure f

^ This strange piece was revived at the same theatre m the season 1874-75,
Tinder jVIr Chatterton’s management, when Mr Webstei, who had played in
the oiigmal caste, took a part It was found stale and uninteresting It was
difficult to believe that it had drawn astonished and delighted crowds It
was the work of Moncrieffi, author of “ Tom and Jeriy ”

I One night hex shaie of the receipts was 91 ^ When this gifted lady sang

THE FALL OF ELLISTOH

413

Blit tlie tide liad began to tarn, tlie extravagant oddities
of the manager began to be noted, and were injuring the
house He brought ^^glass-blowers” on the stage, and his
allowing Kean to appear excited much unpopularity as well
as confusion Mr. Douglas Kinnaird wrote to him that
the actor was lost ^^if suffeied again to be thrust upon
the stage and make speeches” The most extraordinary
scene of all took place on the occasion of the King's second
visit to the theatre Enormous crowds attended, and there
was much excitement, which His Majesty attributed unrea-
sonably to his own unpopulaiity. The late Lord William
Lennox was present at all that followed, and corroborates
what Mr Eaymond, who also witnessed it, relates

The Chamberlain at once perceived the King^s feeling, and
instantly lequested his vice-official. Lord Graham, to at once
see the manager, that the uproar might be appeased by
explanation Loid Graham now hastened to the stage, wheie,
meeting Elliston m full costume, and totally forgetting he was
accosting a ci owned head, exclaimed ^^Mi. Elliston, this is
disgraceful* You should have prevented this excess The
King IS vexed, and will never again come to Drury Lane ”
Elliston now entered grandiloquently into the nature of his
grievance, but his friend soon perceiving that wine had

God save the King,” a card was invariably transcribed for her, of this
kind

Oh Lord avar God
Arais sohaeter
Is enemis and
Meoe them fol
Confond tear
Politel se frosstre
Their nevise trix
On George avar hopes
We fix God save the
Km

414 A NEW HISTOBY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

clearly disordered his wits, he gave him, therefore, certain
advice, which produced the following •

“ You are right, my lord The deputy has affronted me,
and a deputy shall reply to it. My stage-manager shall take
up the question in its piesent shape I shall meet no one but
the Lord Chamberlain himself !

The King had returned to Carlton House — the escort to
the Horse Guards, and it being now one o'clock of the
following morning, the captain had doffed his leathern panta-
loons and huge ]aok-boots, preparing himself for repose, when
a sharp knock was heard at his chamber door. Who's
there ^ interrogated the captain

^^One of His Majesty's secretaries of state, my lord, on
urgent business,'^ said the sergeant

To the sitting-room Lord William immediately proceeded,
when he beheld, seated in an arm-chair, no less a per-
sonage than the monarch of Drury Lane — King William
BUiston* in the same court gear m which he had a few
hours before attended the monarchy of Great Biitain, but, a
little damaged

My lord, we must go out this very morning — I am steady
to my purpose,^^ added he, reeling actually in his chair.

Loid William now pursued the same policy he had taken
in the manager's room — ^namely, representing that it was
utterly impossible the monarch of Drury Lane could go
out with any deputy whatever, and that, if he did, so far
from his honour being vindicated, it would be more deeply
involved

Elliston having liberally tasted of a refresher," com-
mitted himself to the confidence of a pause, after which he
ssaid*

And now, my lord, I would beg to ask, m which of the
Royal Parks do you propose the meeting ^ "

Windsor, by all means," replied the captain.

After some further difi&culty, the manager was placed in
the hackney-coach. You’ll follow, my lord^" said he, in a
confidential whisper
Certainly "

^^Then, I am content. — To Shooter's Hill’" exclaimed
the manager to the coachman, and off he drove.

THE EALL OF ELLISTOH

415

In the course of the morning the following letter reached
him from Lord Graham .

SlB^

I regret to have heard that you felt huit at some
expression I used towards you last evening This was far
from my intention^ my only object being to induce you to take
some means which would remedy the disorder in the pit of
the theatre, as well as the annoyance which it was to His
Majesty and the rest of the audience. I feel sorry that
you should have misconceived me so as to suppose I would
intentionally have said anything disagreeable to you

But we now hear of the luckless manager being arrested
in the street, of his havmg to take refuge within the rules ;
debts and difficulties gathered about him , a fit shattered his
strength so that he could scarcely be recognised The com-
mittee required him to resign, as he was incapacitated from
looking after the theatre He refused, and in vain urged that
he had ever been punctual m his payments, that he only owed
them 5000Z balance out of so large a sum as 70,000?, and had,
besides, laid out over 80,000? on the theatre. He was per-
emptorily called upon to pay within three days. Good security
was offered, but it was refused, and he was dismissed, which
seems harsh treatment Soon after he was announced a
bankrupt — ^Hhe Napoleon of Drury Lane^^

Broken, shattered in health, ejected from his great theatre,
this wonderful elastic being removed to the Suriey Theatre,
and, with the well-known ^^^Black-Eyed Susan, replenished
his coffers again. He lived for several years, exhibitmg his
jaunty oddities to the end, and at last, worn out, died in July,
1831, at the age of 56*

The loss of two old actors, the one owing to death, the

* It would be curious to note how mauy gieat perfoimers dnuk has
destroyed — Keau, Cooke, Elliston, Lemaitre, whilst Kemble’s power was
certainly impaired by it

416 A IvTEW HISTOBY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

other to retirement, made these last seasons remaikahle
Wewitzer, one of GarincVs veterans, who was believed to be
the last survivor of his actors, died about this time , while
the withdrawal of Munden, and the fact that Charles Lamb
and his sister were able to witness his last performance, gave
this event a permanent interest that it otherwise would not
have had

Sir Eobert Bramble, in The Poor Gentleman, and
Dozey, in Past Ten o^Clock,^^ were the parts which this cele-
brated actor selected for his farewell benefit, and it was
announced that, in the course of the evening, Mr Munden
would attempt to take leave of his friends and the public
The audience were exceedingly numerous Munden played on
this interesting night with his wonted feeling and eneigy, but
the excitement of the occasion and a little fermented indul-
gence completely overcame him before he was functus officio
with the audience At the conclusion of the play he ap-
proached the lamps for the purpose of dehvei mg an address — -
a poetical vale,^^ written expressly by Mr Talfourd. Poor
Munden faltered very early, both in metre and matter , when,
deliberately pulling out his spectacles, he commenced loading
a production the spirit of which was the spontaneous outpour-
ings of gratitude and afiection This little maladroit proceeding
somewhat perplexed the sentiment of the night

He was to return after thirty-four years’ service m London,
and had his farewell-night with the usual solemnities He
lived in retirement eight years, dying in 1832, Thus wrote
Blia to The Athenceum •

Deae Sir,

Tour communication to me of the death of Munden
made me weep. Now, sir, I am not of the melting mood, but
in these serious times the loss of half the world^s fun is no
trivial deprivation In the evening of my life I had Munden
all to myself, more mellowed, richer, perhaps, than ever I
cannot say what his change of faces produced in me It was
not acting. His power was extravagant, I saw him one

THE FALL OF ELLISTOH

417

evening m three drunken characters Three farces were
played One part was Dozey^ I forget the rest, hut they
were so discriminated that a stranger might have seen them
all and not have dreamed that he was seeing the same actor
He was not an actor, but something hetteHy if you please
Shall I instance Old Foresight in Love for Love/^ in which
Parsons was at once the old man, the astrologer, etc ^ Munden
dropped the old man, the doter, which makes the character ,
but he substituted for it a moon- struck character, a perfect
abstraction from this earth, that looked as if he had newly
come down from the planets Now, that is not what I call
achng It might be better He was imaginative, he could
impress upon an audience an idea , the low one, perhaps, of
leg of mutton and turnips , but such was the grandeur and
singleness of his expressions, that that single expression would
convey to all his auditory a notion of all the pleasures they
had all leceived from all the legs of mutton and tu7m^s they
have ever eaten in their lives Now, this is not achng

CHAPTER V

SHIPWRECK OP THE PATENT HOUSES.

The ^^Old Haymarket^^ of old playgoers, wkicli has "been
so recently lemodelled, does not stand on the site of the first
Haymaiket house, hut was built next door to it, and opened in
July, 1821 The history of the house is full of interest,
and the words, ^^Haymarket Theatre,^^ call up a peculiar
class of association The entertainment seemed to be in
keeping with the house. The debuts associated with it are
memorable, including Foote, J Palmer, Edwin, J. Bannister,*
Hendeison, Mathews, EUiston, Liston, Young, Terry, etc ;
Miss Fenton, Mrs Abington, and Miss Farren, while in
modern times it will be ever associated with the memory of
Buckstone and Sothern Indeed, a history of the Haymarket,
and the lively style both of acting and play it encouraged,
would show its great influence on English dramatic art The
system was to collect the best country actors, with a sprinkling
of metropolitan performers, when the great houses closed.
The season was usually from June 15th to October 15th
extended in 1810 to seven months Some twenty years later
it was reduced to five months Its scenery was usually of the

* In 1828, Bannister visited the theatre, and wrote in the B’lee List Book
this entiy “Fifty yeais ago, in the year 1778, 1 made my first appeal ance at
this theatre Half a century is not had Hurrah ’ Jack Banmstei ”

SHIPWEECK OP THE PATENT HOUSES-

419

most simple and elementary stock pattern — a wholesome
blemish The entertainments weie of every kind, Footers
Puppet Shows/^ with the actor’s own humour and satire ,
his monologues, teas, etc., and most of the pieces had
this free - and - easy licence. Light comedy, interlude,
and farce were, however, its more regular fare It
might be thought that Poote, Pieldmg, and Oolman were
names sufficient to give it celebrity, but only a short time
after the new house was opened it obtained an extraordi-
nary success with a new piece, described as ^^the greatest
theatrical hit of our time,^^ and which is likely always to
keep the stage. Of the writer and his play a short account
will be found mteiesting This was the veteran John Poole,
who died quite lately, and who was the last of the genuine
hearty-laughter-moving broad old-fashioned humorists The
broad principle of treatment which he affected appears in all
the old farces, a specimen of which was the rustic damsel
making the obtrusive attorney suitor conceal himself in a
barrel, to be piesently discovered whitened all over with
flour On the stage this homely surprise is ever effective ,
and vaiiations of the same humble machinery are sure to tell
with the multitude, affording a useful hint for the writer who
would be popular Poole was one of the most diligent
adapters of his day, a title, however, he was inclined to
repudiate as earnestly as though he had been one of our own
living spoliators To the actor and theatrical amateur the
long list of his excellent acting plays are familiar, such as
Turning the Tables , A Nabob for an Hour ; ■’Twould
Puzzle a Conjuror,’^ and the ingenious and amusing Hole
in the Wall,’’ which excites more interest and mirth, in
proportion to its length, than any light piece of the
kind But it IS Paul Pry ” that is destined to give
to the name of Poole the true theatrical fame The

420 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

figuie lives like some historical peisonage, it is familiar
to those who have never heen inside a theatie^ and it
will always hold possession of the stage because it is diawn
from the great collection of human characters^ and^ excepting
a few local peculiaiities^ belongs to no country and is intelligible
in all The play itself is constructed on the true principle^
the character pioducing the situations^ not the situations the
character, as is too often the case with modern English pieces.
Every comic performer of any claims, as he advances to eminence,
IS called upon to give his reading of Paul Piy , and since
Liston, who originally created the part fifty years ago, a
vast number of facetious players have failed or succeeded in
the attempt Paul Pry wasfiist produced at the Hay market
in September, 1825, with a good cast that included Liston,
Earien, Madame Vestris, Pope, and Mrs Waylett It was acted
some forty times — then a great run The following season it
was again taken up at Drury Lane, and acted every night in
the season Madame Vestns^s Phoebe, the spirited and in-
genious waiting-maid, was long spoken of with rapture by old
playgoers, and her success was a good deal owing to the perfect
naturalness of the part, and its being utterly opposed to the
conventional style in which such characters ai^e put upon the
stage But the picture of Liston and his peculiar costume
became as familiar to the public mind as that of Mr Pickwick
and even now in the china shops are to be met with little
pottery statuettes of the droll comedian in his boots and white
hat, his haggy umbrella under his arm Not less familiar, too,
is the engraving after the capital picture by Clmt

The critics of the day, when it first appeared, judged it tem-
perately and fairly. is a pleasant piece,'' wrote Hazlitt in
^^The London Magazine," ^^bnt there is rather too much
of it. The plot is compounded of several ancient and approved
plots, and most of the characters are close copies of hackneyed

SHIPWEEOK OF THE PATENT HOUSES

421

originals Witli tlie irrepressible Liston he was enchanted.

There is leally nothing in the pait beyond the mere outline
of an officious inquisitive gentleman, which is droll^ as it
reminds everyone of acquaintances, but Liston fills it with a
thousand nameless absurdities The hint thus thrown out on
the first repiesenlation has been unconsciously adopted, for the
play has since been compressed, though with some loss of
effect Theie is no more diveiting situation than the passage
in which the indefatigable Pry unintentionally raises an alarm
of robbers, and is himself puisued, as a robber, by the servants
and dogs Nothing can be happier than the idea of such a
retribution, as the natuial lesult of his own espionage All the
other situations come about in the same unconstrained fashion.
The true key to the character of Paul Pry is of couise earnest-
ness — a genuine anxiety to know what his neighbours aie
about

It has often been repeated that Paul Pry was diawn from a
familiar figuie of the time — the eccentric Tom Hill, who was
editor of “ The Dramatic Minor.” Poole took occasion expressly
to contradict this in a little biographical sketch of himself
addiessed to one of the magazines ^^The idea,^^ he says,
was really suggested by an old invalid lady who lived in a
very narrow street, and who amused herself by speculating on
the neighbouis and identifying them, as it were, by the sound
of the knocks they gave The author adds, It was not drawn
from an individual, but from a class I could mention five or
six peisons who were contributors to the original play ” — which
showed that he worked on true principles as applied to humour,
VIZ. abstraction and selection.

The confusion into which things were hurrying may be
conceived, when we find what took place on the production of
Fazio , or, The Italian Wife,^^ a well-known poetical diama.
This was actually seized on by the pioprietors of the Olympic,

422 A NEW HISTOBY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

and fitted as a sort of opera^ with songs and musical illustia-
tions, to tlie indignation of the author ; but the Chamberlain
duly licensed it.

Novemhe), 1817 — It having been repoited to me by the
examinei of all theatrical entertainments that a manuscript,
entitled, The Italian Wife,^^ being a melodramatic romance
in three acts, does not contain in it anything immoral or
otherwise improper for the stage , I, the Lord Chamberlain of
His Majesty^s household, in consideration of the same, do,
by virtue of my office, and m puisuance of an Act of Pai La-
ment in that case piovided, allow the said manuscript to be
acted at your theatre, accoidmg to the copy thereof delivered
to me, and signed by yourself, without any vaiiation whatso-
evei, unless such variation be likewise approved of by me m
due form Ingram HERTroED, Ohambeilain

Mr Grove, Olympic Theatie,

Prompter and Assistant Stago-managei

The piece was later produced at Covent Gaiden in its
proper form

Meanwhile, so serious and embarrassed had become the
state of things at this great house, that Mr Kemble deter-
mined to divest himself of all risk and lesponsibility, and
retiied to Lausanne, where he died, in February, 1823
A well-known actor, Fawcett, took his place as stage-
manager, in which post he continued for many years But in
1824 and 1825 impoitant changes took place Mr Harris
dying, Mr Kemble had transferred his share to his brother
Charles, an actor still remembered for his power and charm
in characters of chivalry The theatre was ruled by a large
firm, consisting of Kemble, Messrs Const, Forbes, and Willett
The fate of this vast concern, on which depended the fate of
many persons, was now sealed To add to and make ceitain
its rum, the element of litigation was only wanting A
Chancery suit was instituted by Harris against Mr Charles

SHIPWEEOK OF THE PATENT HOUSES 423

IvemblOj m the course of which proceeding it was made clear
that the theatre had been almost bankrupt fiom the day of its
opening I Mr. Harris stated that the house had cost, with
patent and old debts, some 400,000Z The annual expenses
were 50,000Z, which, with inteiest on the capital and debt,
made a total of 70,000Z to be earned'

According to the statement of Robertson, the treasurer, the
profits of the first seasons were about 18,500Z a year, which
Ml Harris declared was devoted to paying off the debt
Mr Place, in his interesting MSS , calculates that this left a
deficiency of 4000Z a year, which in twelve years would
amount to nearly 50,000Z When, therefore, in 1821, Mr
Harris handed over the reins to Kemble, Willett, and Forbes,

those peisons.took it with “a floating debt of 60,0001”
Captain I'oibes later announced that this debt, under their
tSgime, increased to 84,OOOZ But a short view of the respec-
tive shaies of the parties will show how the affairs of the

theatre stood

In 1809, at the opening, the property was

thus held

Thomas Hams .

14 24ths

John P Kemble ....

4

White

Martindale

3 Powell’s

Q > onginal

O J) ) quaiter

In 1812, Mr Harris gave his son Henry 2

24ths

In 1812, Willett and Forbes became
entitled to Whitens

Mrs Martindale left Const a life

3 24ths

interest m her , . • .

In 1822, J Kemble gave his brother

3 „

Charles his ....

4 „

Thomas Harris and his son held

14 „

24

424 A NEW HISTORY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE

On Marcli llth, 1822, 0 Kemble, Willett, and Captain
Forbes took a lease at 12,000? The property then stood

Henry Harris
0. Kemble
Const

Willett and Forbes

14 24ths

3

3

24

The rapidity with which the downfall of the two great
honses was now to follow was indeed extraordinary We shall
not be long in following the stages of their rum Even the
introduction of ^^oil gas’^ at Oovent Garden, in 1828, brought
disaster and panic, for, after the driving audiences away by
the disagreeable stench, an explosion took place one night
below the pit, which killed and wounded several persons, and
obliged the theatie to bo. closed The company moved to
the English Opera, where the same desertion followed them
The last stage of degiadation was reached when the town
learned that an execution had been put m — distraint for '‘the
King’s taxes”— and that the lessees were keeping out of the way.
An attempt was made to save the concern by inviting public
aid, and '' subscriptions and donations,” it was notified, would
be received, '' to promote the means of averting the calamity
by which the national theatre was so seriously threatened”
The most serious part of the case was the almost certain ruin
of a fine corps of actors, expeiienced veterans and cultivated,
such as Bartley, Fawcett, etc On one night, when there
was not 50? in the house, Mr. Place found himself in the
green-room, where the actors sat, their faces overcast with
gloom, when Fawcett said it was no use shutting their eyes to
the fact that the players had seen their best days, public taste
had completely changed as well as public habits. The hour of
dining, the establishment of clubs, the desertion of fashionable
persons, who were now more eager for dancmg the new

shipwreoe: of the pateistt houses

425

dances — all these^ it was felt, liad brought the decay Another
more serious reason was the lack of skilled and ]udicious
managers. Much was to be set to the account of Charles
KemblO; a man of gay temperament and habits, who^ as a
friend of his said, ‘^is, and always will be, poor, with an
income of neaily or quite 2000Z a year, which he muddles
away, never having a shilling beforehand In this disastrous
state of the theatre he allowed himself 12Z a night, acting
four times in the week, while his daughter received lOZ. The
house was administered in the same extravagant fashion. Sir
George Smart, the musical director, receiving lOOOZ.

We now hear of scuffles, scandals, and encounters
between the managers, recriminatory pamphlets, and general
pecuniary ill success. Mr Bunn furnishes one of the most
extraordinary theatrical papers on record — memorandum
of eleven thousand orders, amounting to the sum of 3851Z I 5 .,
written nnder the management of Mr Charles Kemble at
Covent Garden Theatre (taking the stock -nights m succession),
by Mr Eobertson, his tieasurer, between the 17th May and
12th July, 1824,^’ a peiiod of not quite three months ^ It was
awkward, too, to add that these were chiefly required on the
nights that the gifted manager performed Shakespeare

Before this crisis came an interesting and unexpected
event occurred, which postponed, though it did not avert, the
impending crash A young girl, daughter of Charles Kemble,
suddenly became inspired by an instinct that the hereditary
talent of the family might be found within her, and that she
might help to restore her father’s fortune She, heiself, has
recently related, in a charming popular memoir, this almost
romantic episode *

* Mrs Butler (Fanny Kemble), tbe last gifted member of so gifted a
family, still lives to recount to her friends the recollections of her rather
eventful life

2 P

VOIi II.

426 A 3^EW HISTOBY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.

This success^ however, in the hopeless condition of the
theatre, could do but little, for it was calculated that
the attractions of the nights on which she performed were
neutralised by the bad houses of the other nights

It will not take long to recount the rest. After the usual
appeal, hitherto made by managers of strolling and country
companies, to the actors to take a portion of their salaries,
together with other shifts, Kemble retired In 1832, Laporte,
manager of the opera, and a Frenchman, took it for a short
time, and failed to do anything. He was succeeded by Captain
Polhill, from Drury Lane, who was equally unsuccessful In
1836, FitzBall, well known for his successful pieces, but who,
being a nervous man,^^ says Mr Place, though a writer of
the most horrid melodramas, took the theatre. On the follow-
ing day he was so stormed with applications for engagements
that he became seriously ill, and the day after resigned
Then came Osbaldiston from the Surrey Theatie, bringing
with him his actors and the peculiar pieces of that house
Macready was next induced to embark his fortune in the
sinking ship, remaining a couple of seasons at a rent of 7000Z
a year. Later, there were Madame V estris and Charles Mathews,
who, as they frankly owned, held it at a weekly loss of 401 ,
and were e3ected by the proprietors These at last undertook
the direction themselves, and in 1842 it was once more under the
government of Charles Kemble, Forbes, Willett, and Surman,
who represented the Harris interests At length came the
rather appropriate finale to the degradation of the old house,
when one night, in 1856, as a con]urer was giving a masked
ball of the most vulgar kind, it was burnt to the ground.

We now turn to Drury Lane Theatre We find that,
in June, 1826, proposals for letting the theatre were once
more issued, and Bish, a member of Paidiament, but better
known as a lottery agent and speculator, offered himself as

SHIPWEECK OF THE PATENT HOUSES.

427

tenant at a rent of over lOOOZ. a year, depositing 2000Z. But
in less tlian a week he withdrew, and a new tenant was found
m an American, Stephen Price, to whom the forfeited deposit
was handed over. He is described by Mr Place as “a man of
coarse manners, repulsive conduct, and vulgar conversation,
and therefore christened Hhe American Chesterfield^ His
want of theatrical knowledge soon brought him to a standstill.
The committee tried, on his fourth season, to e]ect him ; he was
a lawyer, defied them, and would not quit without being fee^d,
which they did by an allowance for many weeks His rent was
10,600Z He left them in their debt nearly 2000Z , and became
a bankrupt in 1830^^ A successor was found who, to every-
one's surprise, proved to be Alexander Lee, piquantly described
as ^^Lord Barrymore^s tiger, the son of Lee the fighter, a
broken-down singer at the Haymarket, and the keeper of a
music-nhop in the Quadrant.^^ He had become insanely
attached to the fascinating Mrs Waylett, whose ^^Buy a
Broom was the delight of the town, and, after the death of
her husband, married her She was introduced into the theatre,
and her wranglings and disputes with the lady in whom the
other lessee was interested led to Lee^s being driven from the
theatre.

She was a woman of very bad temper, full of whims and
caprice, passionate and sulky by turns, and she treated him as
if he had been put into the world for the sole purpose of doing
everything that her tyrannical fancy could dictate I have seen
him at Vauxhall running about with plates, dishes, chicken,
salads, wine, etc, with the agihty and speed of a waiter, at her
command, vainly endeavouring to give satisfaction to his im-
perious mistress by the most abject attention to her wishes
Her extravagant habits were a constant drain upon his purse,
and his resources being limited, he was always in a state of
embarrassment and necessity. When she died, he was broken-
hearted, and for weeks and months roamed like a restless
spirit about the haunts in which he and the lady had been

2 F 2

428 A mW HISTOET OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.

accustomed to wander He liad on lier death left the lodgings
in which they had resided, somewhere in the neighbourhood
of Vauxhall, and removed to another locality, but he was
miserable, and actually went back to the lodgings in which
she had breathed her last. He locked himself up in the
bedroom, and as the landlord or landlady of the house became
alarmed at his protracted stay of upwards of four-and- twenty
hours therein, they, after repeatedly knocking at the door,
forced an entrance, and found their lodger a corpse, doubled
up on a chair beside the bed on which his wife had a short
time before expired * **

Not having any money, he applied to Harley and others to
]om him m the venture, and was on the point of giving up the
theatre, when he apphed to a gentleman who had employed
him to instruct a young lady in singing This was Captain
Polhill, who was dehghted to join him, and took half the
risk, the rent being 9000Z. But in the May following
(1831) they separated, and Polhill became sole lessee The
following season he appointed Bunn his manager In May,
1833, Bunn gave himself out as patentee of both theatres ,
Polhill, for some reason, not wishing to be considered a pro-
prietor Bunn had been stage-manager under Elliston in 1823.
His memoirs are entertaining reading, giving a curious
picture of the confusion then reigning in stage-management.
What, indeed, could be conceived of the reckless system
which, unable to control one great theatre, must direct two ^
The idea was that of saving by working both with one
company and a half Broad Court and Martlefct Buildings,^^
says Eaymond, ^^from about half -past nine at night to a
quaiter from ten exhibited a most extraordinary scene.
Actors half attired, with enamelled faces, and loaded with
the paraphernalia of their art, were passing and repassing,

* For an account of tins person, see that strange book, Eichardson'a

** Eecollections of the Last Half Oentuiy,” ii 129

SHIPWRECK OF THE PATENT HOUSES.

429

wliilst the hurried interchange of quaint words^ ^ Stage *waits^^

^ Music on/ ^Eung up/ etc., would have perplexed the
stranger with a thousand surmises Double-basses, trom-
bones, long drums, books, and wearing apparel carried on
the heads of figure-dancers, apparently ]ust started from their
beds/^ During the Christmas season the female performers
had to thus flutter back and forward no less than six times *

This did not last long Captain Polhill had retired, having
lost no less than 50,000Z , while Bunn, becoming sole director in
1834, contrived to remain until 1839, when he became a bank--
rupt, owing the proprietors 12,000Z.* He had turned the
old theatre into an opera-house, and by the aid of Oatalani
had drawn the town for some time He was succeeded by
Hammond, who only remained a year. Finally, old Drury
reached the lowest depth — shilling concerts, under the direc-
tion of Eliason, a German, who became a bankrupt like so
many preceding directors. In 1841, Mr Macready tried to
galvanise the establishment into prosperity, but the experi-
ment of a season showed him it was hopeless. Such is the
dismal history of the two great theatres.

It was not unnatural that this persistent tale of rum, which
had been almost unmterrupted for nearly thirty years, should
have excited interest and speculation as to the causes which
had led to such a catastrophe Not only the ruined managers
and the unlucky proprietors, but thmking persons, placed it
to the competition of the smaller rival theatres, and to the dis-
advantages of the vast areas of the auditory, which only the
strict enforcement of patent rights could fill

It was during the reign of Lord Oonyngham, Lord
Chamberlam to George the Fourth, that the last blows which

* Mr Macready made liis engagemenfc with Mr Bunn remarkable by
assaulting ins manager behmd his own scenes, he smarting under what
seems to have been fancied grievances

4S0 A mw HISTOBT OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.

sealed the fate of the patent theatres had been given Not
merely complete toleration, but almost encouragement of the
minor theatres set in.

One Mr Eayner (says Bunn), who had opened a theatre
in the Strand, defied the Duke of Devonshire, and had refused
to obey the King's own commands to close it, now received a
formal licence The Haymarket Theatre, whose licence of four
months had grown into one of eight, now obtained an exten-
sion of two more, and by virtue thereof completed a season of
ten months. Foote and Oolman were limited to about one
hundred and four nights , now the theatre was to have two
hundred and fifty

Mr Bunn also points out that the annual licences of the
English Opera-house were extended, also those of the Adelphi
and the Olympic Theatres, as also the one recently given to
the Strand Theatre, a licence was given (and subsequently
extended) to Mr. Braham’s new theatre, and to the Opeia Buff a
(a minor Italian Opera-house)

But it was m 1881 that the question of the theatres once
more began to burn Pressure was put on the Chamberlain,
proceedings in the House of Commons were proposed; a
petition from the Lyceum was addressed to the new king,
praying for the additional privilege of a longer season.
Against this the patent theatres protested, and the Sailor
King,^^ possibly embarrassed, instead of deciding himself,
referred the matter to the Chancellor, Lord Brougham*
Three judges were called in to assist, and the matter was
carefully considered The decision, given on February 17th,
1831, may be said to have settled the fate of the patents
The Chancellor, who entered on this novel subject with his
customary enthusiasm, spoke with no uncertain sound.

^^It was not denied," he said, ^^by any of the parties
that a hcenoe from the Crown was necessary to open a theatra

SHIPWEECK OF THE PATENT HOUSES.

4S1

■within the precincts in question."'^ The question, how far the
patents already granted precluded any new grants, was argued.
The Ohanoellor had no doubt on this point, no't had any of
the Judges And it "was tahen as quite clear that the King
had the entire power by law to make whatever changes he
thought fit, to revolce those grants altogether, or to grant to
either parties rights inconsistent with those granted formedy
to the patent theatres. They therefore advised an extension of
the Lyceum term.

The King acknowledged this communication in an effusive
document, saying that it was his own opinion, and that he
looked to the good and pleasure of his subjects, and heartily
concurred m it. As a speedy result of this pronouncement
the term of the Lyceum was extended the following year
for two months longer, thus giving it a season of eight months
out of the twelve, virtually equivalent to the whole year.
The same favour was granted to the Haymarket. And thus
at the close, as well as at the begmning, the fate of the
theatres was to be settled by the arbitrament of the Crown

It was about this time that Sir E Bulwer Lytton brought
the matter before Parliament, and in 1832 a committee was
appointed to investigate the whole question.*

Parliamentary action was taken on the report until eleven
years later, in 1843, when the Statute of 6 & 7 Vict. c. 68,
^^for regulating theatres,^^ was passed.f

* The report of the committee, now difficult to procure, is a most enter
taming volume, as all the leading performers were examined, and gave their
evidence with much dramatic point and vivacity The question of the vast
size of the patent theatres excited much difference of opimon, some maintain
mg that it made little difference This argument, however, could only be based
on the fact of a particular attraction having fiUed the house “ from floor to
ceiling^’ — ^indeed, at many periods during the last twenty years Drury Lane
has been so filled But this was owing to shows and spectacular plays, offering
novelty in form, which soon ceased to attract Charles Kemble, when drawn
from his retirement for a few nights, thus filled the house

i* By this important enactment it was decreed, after repealing three statutes
of James the First, portions of two others of George the Second, that all houses

432 A liTEW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE.

This was really the liberty of the theatre,” which was
now at last enfranchised.

After some years^ experience, a section in the Act which
dealt with the saloons or houses which combined the attrac-
tions of the tavern with performances, gave rise to a new
and very nice question, V125. that of how far music-halls were
to go in this respect. That lies out of the province of this
work,* but by 1866 the music-hall had become so important a
social element, that a fresh committee inquired into the point,
and after examining many performers, writers, and managers
of theati es, recommended that all music-halls and kindred places
should be placed under the jurisdiction of the Lord Chamberlain.
Thus, the tendency to centralisation seems once again to favour
this ancient and honourable control f

Having thus brought my labours down to within living
memory, and completed this view of the stage in connection
with social life and manners, I may fitly conclude this
retrospect here, and withdraw behind the scenes.”

^*for the performance of stage plays’* mustbelioensecl, except suolias hold patents
or licence fiom the Lord Chamberlain or 3ustices The Chamberlain’s power was
to extend to London and Westminster, and round the various boroughs and the
places where Her Majesty shall occasionally reside The name of the manager
was to be on his bills, and he was to be bound m a bond There were strict
clauses as to plays, prologues, additions to old plays, fees, etc , and the Loid
Chamberlain, whenever he shall be of opinion that “it was fitting for the
preservation of good manners, decorum,” etc , was to have the power of for-
bidding the performance “ anywhere in Great Britain, and either absolutely or
for such time as he shall think fit ” Pecuniary penalties f 01 actor or managei
not exceeding 50Z were fixed , and “ stage-play” was defined to include “every
tragedy, comedy, farce, opera, burletta, interlude, melodrama, pantomime, 01
other entertainment of the stage” The justices were to hold “special
sessions ” to consider every apphoation

I may be allowed to refer the reader interested in this question to another
book of my own, “ Principles of Comedy and Diamatic Efiect,” where it is
fully dealt with

f Mr Hertslet also has kindly pointed out to me yet another important
recognition of the office, in an Act of 1878, “ The Metropolis Management and
Building Act,’* 0 32, where the Board may look after any theati e “ defective
in its structure,” or in danger as regards fire, “ with the consent of the Lord
Chamberlain as to the theatres under his jurisdiction ”

APPENDIX A.

The Lo'i d GhawherlavrC b Reeo^ ds^

It will have been seen by the reader that the system of the stage in
England has, during its whole course, and in a very curious way,
depended on the action of the Lord Chamberlain and his officers At
this moment, indeed, the duties of the Depaitment entail serious work,
and now, the theatres having increased to such an enormous extent, the
task of supervision becomes moie important than ever It has been
shown in these pages how absolutely essential it is that this control
should exist, and that exhibitions on a stage aie certain to degenerate
into licence when attraction is found to flag If this duty, moreover,
could be allotted to a single department — as it is one of singular
delicacy and tact — ^its being exercised by the sovereign would take off
the stiffness and harshness which it might otherwise entaiL

It IS remarkable that this restraint obtams in all leading foreign
countries But the most important parallel is that of Eiance under
the Empire, when the liberty of theatrical industry was granted
by a decree of the Emperor, dated January 6th, 1864 By this all
privileges were removed, and anyone was allowed to open and play all
pieces, subject to a certain supervision. By a decree of December 30th,
1852, every piece was to be read and approved of by the Minister
of the Maison de TEmpereur, or in the country, by the Prefect.
Managers and actors continued to be controlled merely by the police
Having been allowed access to the records of the office, which
appear not to have been used for any work on the stage, I waS
astonished to find how completely and thoroughly the control over the
theatres and players was exercised down almost to our own day

434 A ITEW HISTOBY OP THE USTG-LISH STAGE

They are admirably kept and carefully indexed, and are accessible in
every way A few entries to snppoit and supplement the statements
in the text will show this very clearly.

In January, 1675, a dispute arose between Killigrew and his company
as to shares, and a settlement was made by the Lord Chamberlain In
December, 1675, aiticles for regulating the Eoyal Theatie, signed by
the master and comedians, were presented to the Lord Chamberlain as
their superior officer ” In February, 1676, the players havmg left off
playing owmg to private disputes, were oidered by the Lord Chamber-
lain to commence playing again forthwith In August came an order
to forbear playing In September they were required to obey the
Chamberlain duiing the diffeience between Mr Killigrew and his son,
and in Febiuary, 1677, oidered to obey Mr Charles Kilhgrew, the
son In 1 678, the actors of both houses, the sei vants of the Eevels, etc ,
to obey Mi Killigiew when they play at Couit Ko actor was to
carry away their acting clothes from the house In 1686, Novem-
ber 29th, we find a complaint of Mrs Lacy for the unjust detention of
Zs id a day from her by the managers The parties to appear before
the Lord Chambeilain for a decision On December 27 th, 1 687, adecision
was given m her favour In 1691, the comedians of both theatres
were siis 2 )ended for an insult to a peer of the lealm , after three days
the suspension was removed In 1 692, an order issued that only persons
of good rank and qiialitij were to be admitted to the Eoyal Theatre
By indenture between C Killigrew and D. Davenant, all benefits,
privileges, powers, and authorities before mentioned are covenanted
to be as one from thenceforth for ever (See Sir T Skipwith^s
answer to Betterton ) About 1690, the actors seem to have
quarrelled with the patentees In 1694, we find a petition of the
players, Betterton and others, with articles of pretended grievances
agamst patentees In 1695, licence to Betteiton On June 14th?
1710, five actors of Druiy Lane were suspended for riotous behaviour
On March 5th, 1711, Colher was directed to send in all the accounts
of the Opera-house, and the terms of the engagements with the actois,
complaints being made by them of non-payment On April 17th,
1712, a licence was granted to Owen Sweney to form a company at
the Opera-house “ duiing the Eoyal pleasure/' On April 17th, leguk-
tions weie made to prevent the Comedy Company and the Opera
Company intorfeimg -with each other, while the former was enjoined
to pay Sweney lOOZ a year towards his expense In 1709, on No-
vembei 19lh, we find a letter from Sir J. Stanley to Mr Collier, M P

APPENDIX A

435

telling liim that, at the Lord Chamherlam’s desire, the Queen will grant
him a licence for comedy and tragedy for November 23rd, upon the con-
dition that Mr Rich and other claimants m the patent are excluded
from all share in the management Collier, it seems, entered into a
lease with the landloids of Drury Lane Theatie, and took possession on
November 22nd On December 24th, 1709, regulations for the managers
were issued to submit all agreements with actors to the Chambeilain,
all players weie to be sworn in , no ladder-dancing or antics were to be
introduced on the stage, and all plays to be licensed by the Mastei of the
Revels ” In 1711, on November 15th, we have Queen Anne’s sign-
manual,” forbidding persons to stand behind the scenes, and ordering
them to pay the established prices, and m 1712, another sign-manual
of the same kmd On November 11th, 1713, a licence was granted to
Collier, Wilks, Cibber, Dogget, and B. Booth to form a company to play
comedies, tragedies, and all other theatrical performances (musical
enteitainments excepted) dming pleasme^ and revoking all other
licences On the 3id of November, 1714, by petition Cibber prays that
Dogget be ordered to do his usual parts, when they would gladly admit
him to an equal share We here find a most smgular incident in the
shape of a petition from Mr Betterton and Mis Bracegirdle for a
reformation and a new regulation of the theatres The various privi-
leges granted to Steele were dated as follows A licence to him and
his partners on October 18th, 1714, a petition for patent in January,
1715, the law officer’s opmion on Januaiy 12th, 1715, and the King’s
waiiant to prepare a bill for patent, January 14th, 1715 (The patent
was dated January 19th ) On October 25th, 1718, queries were put to
the Attorney-General (and this is significant) as to a claim made by the
managers, to he exempt fiom the GhamheTlain^ s junsdiotion, on the terms
of the patent to Steele In 1718, on November 15th, Steele received
514? for presents to his actors and the expenses of seven plays performed
at Hampton Court Palace On January 23rd, 1719, a King’s warrant
revoked the licence to Steele and his partners of October 18th, on
account of great misbehaviour of the comedians from want of proper
management ” All other licences were also revoked On J anuaiy 25 th,
1719, came a warrant fiom the Chambeilain prohibiting all peiform-
ances On January 27th, 17 1 9, a licence was given to Wilks, C ibber, and
Booth during Royal pleasure ” On Eebruaiy 2ad there was a
caution ” to the theatre as to benefit-nights, and “ not to raise the
prices without leave ” On Eebruary 15th, an order to the managers to
act Mr Gay’s Pastoral Tragedy ” On December 19th, 1719, there

436 A NEW HISTOEY OF THE ENOLISH STAGE.

came a warrant from the Lord Chambeilam dismissing Mr Colley
Cibber On May 2nd, 1721, the managers were ordered to account
with Steele for his share of the patent. On December 4th, 1721, an
order not to allow any actor to leave without a discharge from them,
and due notice given to the Loid Chamberlain OnDecember 5tb,1729,
came the order of George the Second that no one stand on the stage
during the opera On November 2nd, 1730, an order to receive no
actor, smger, or dancer from each other^s company xDithoui leave f) om the
Loxd Oliamherlain On May 15th, 1731, a King^s warrant to Cibber^
Wilks, and Booth for twenty-one yeais, from December 1st, 1732, to
perfoim at Diury Lane oi elsewhei e The patent was given on July 3rd,
1731 On Maich 10th, 1737, an order from the Lord Chamberlain
strictly forbidding plays on Wednesdays and Fridays in Lent On
Maich 10th, 1738, William Chetwynd was appointed Examiner of
Plays, and Thomas Odell deputy In 1749, Edward Capell was
appointed Deputy Licenser at 2001 a year In 1750, plays were
forbidden at the Haymarket, and the manager ordered to dismiss his
company as acting without a licence As regards the country, it is
curious that nearly forty years elapsed before countiy managers thought
of obtaining patents The fiist obtained, aftei the gieater and well-
known London, was one to Younger and Mattocks, at Manchester,
1775 Next followed Newcastle, 1787, Manchester, 1796, Bath,
1797, Chester, 1798, Bristol, 1799, Kingston-upon Hull, 1803, York,
1803 , Liverpool, 1807 , Birmingham, 1807 , Margate, 1807 , Edin-
burgh, 1809 , Chester, 1819

Memorandim on the Lord Ghamhexlain^ s Aiithoritij
1 have received from the Hon S Ponsonby Fane, of the Lord
Chamberlain’s Department, a very clear j;? ecis of what is to be gathered
from these records, and from which I have taken what is essential for
the purpose in view

Memomndxm on Theatres, dated Maxell 12tJi, 1866
That the Chamberlain s authority proceeded from the sovereign
alone is clear, from the fact that no Act of Parliament, previous to the
10 Geo. II c 28 (passed m 1737), alludes to his hcensmg powers,
though he was constantly exercismg them The office records prove
that between 1628 (when they commence) and 1660, the Lord
Chamberlain hcensed and closed theatres, interfered in the copyright
of plays, and either personally, or thiough the Master of the Bevels,
had complete control over managers and actors. In 1662 and 1663,

APPEISTDIX A

437

King Charles the Second granted the two well-known patents to
Thomas Killigrew and Sir William Davenant, for all kinds of stage
entertainments as therein named, and by these two patents all othei'
companies in London and Westminster were silenced The two patents
were united by mdentuie in 1682, the intention of the conihiiiing
patentees being to create a monopoly for their exclusive advantage
In 1695, King William the Third gianted a licence to Betterton and
his company of actois to set up another theatre, and from that time
forward there were again two theatres in London The licence granted
to Betterton was renewed from time to time, and at last converted into
a patent of twenty-one years* duration

About the year 1731, the theatre now known as the Hayniarket
Theatre came into existence , it was occasionally licensed from 1749,
was known as Foote’s Theatre, and, after 1778, received an annual
licence foi the regular drama, but only during the summer months
In 1809, the Lyceum, which for some years before had been licensed
for music and dancmg, was licensed for musical dramatic enter-
tainments and ballets of action ** And about the same time the
theatre now called the Adelphi was permitted to give ^^burlettas,
music and dancing, with spectacle and pantomime** In 1813, the
Olympic was licensed for the same performances, and for horsemanship,
and another minor theatre in Catheiine Street, Stiand, was similarly
licensed Burletta licences •were also granted for the St James’s
Theatre in 1835, and for the Strand Theatre in 1836 At this time
also various theatres had been established beyond the Lord Chamber-
lain’s jurisdiction, such as the Surrey, the Coburg, Astley’s, and
others , and several places called saloons sprang up, which were really
public-houses, enlivened by theatrical entertainments These theatres
and saloons were beyond the liberties of Westminster, and there was
no law in existence under which they could be licensed , they pre-
tended, however, to he open undei a magistrate’s licence foi “ music,
dancing, and public enteitamments , ” but this authority afforded them
no protection when it was thought worth while to prosecute the
managers As regards legislation between 1660 and 1843, it may be
remarked that the early Acts of Parliament relatmg to players were,
in reality, Vagrant Acts, and it was not till 1737 that the question of
theatrical licences, and of the censorship, received a solution at the
hands of Parhament The 10 Geo II c 28, passed in that year,
empoweied the Lord Chamberlain to grant licences for theatrical
entertainments, as therein defined, withm the city and liberties of

438 A IjTEW HISTOEY OE TBM ENGLISH STAGE,

Westminster, and wlierever the sovereign might reside, and it con-
stitutes him licenser of all new plays throughout Great Britain The
25 Geo II c 30, passed in 1751, enabled the justices of the peace
to license houses for music, dancing, and public entertamment after
five o’clock in the afternoon, but sect 4 of the Act excepts the patent
theatres, Crown licences, and the Lord Chamberlain’s licences from
the penalties of the Act Under this power, therefore, the Lord
Chambeilain granted licences for music, dancing, recitation, conjurmg,
and many kinds of public entertainments, which cannot be classed as
stage-plays, from 1751 to 1843 He ceased to grant these licences in
1843, when the 6 & 7 Yict c 68, was passed, belie vmg it to be the
intention of the Legislature that his licences should thenceforward be
limited to stage-plays , but the law ofiiceis of the Ciown have recently
reported (1866) that his powers to giant licences for music, dancing,
and miscellaneous enteitamments under this Act have not been re-
pealed by the 6 (fc 7 Vict c 68 In 1787, the 28 Geo III c 30, en-
abled justices of the peace to hcence theatrical entertamments occasion-
ally undei the restrictions theiein contained, but they could not giant
licences within twenty miles of London, nor near any loyal residence
Theatrical matters stood thus immediately before the Act of 1843
The Act of 1843 (6 & 7 Vict c. 68) extended the Loid Chamber-
lain’s jurisdiction from Westminster to the Parliamentary boundaries,
and so defined the word stage-plays ” that the Lord Chamberlain
decided to grant the same licence to all theatres, both those in West-
minster and those brought withm his authority by the new Act The
managers of all theatres and saloons were licensed to give stage-plays
in the fullest sense of the word, and during the whole year, nnder a
bond with the Lord Chamberlain, as presciihed by the Act of Parlia-
ment, twenty-four theatres or saloons were thus licensed at Michaelmas,
1843, after the passing of the Act , of these, seven had been previously
licensed by the Lord Chamberlain , and ten theaties and seven saloons
came, for the first time, under the Lord Chamberlain’s authority All
respectable places of entertainment established befoie the passing of
the Act weie licensed , and m the case of saloons, the Lord Chamber-
lain ruled that the entrances to the stage should not he through the
bars or tap-rooms of the taverns to which they were attached, that no
drinking or smoking should be allowed during the hours of perform-
ance,* and that no saloon should be open before five o’clock p m

Although no condition against smohing or drinking appears in the licence
to theatres, it was clearly understood that they were forbidden.

APPEISTDIX A.

439

The form of licence to the saloons was somewhat altered in 1845,
smoking being still interdicted, and refreshments allowed only durmg
the intervals between the performances, as at theatres Tables or
stands for refreshment were also forbidden

In deciding upon applications for new licences, the question of
safety has been the first consideration, but the Loid Chambeilam has
been in othei lespeots guided by the interests of the public He has
required that an applicant should produce a petition, signed by many
of the inhabitants in the immediate vicimty, in favour of the proposed
theatre , he has requested the Police Commissioners to veiify the tiuth
of the petition, and to report whether inconvenience was likely to
result in the way of interruption of traffic, oi otherwise, from the
establishment of a new theatre. He has usually obtamed the opinion
of the parish authorities

The Opera-house m the Haymarket was surveyed between 1825
and 1829, and in 1828, the Co vent Garden Theatre proprietors were
compelled to produce an architect’s report of the safety of the build
ing before it was opened In the same year the Surveyor of Has
Majesty’s Works caused a survey to be made of all the theatres in
the Lord Chamberlain’s jurisdiction, at the request of the latter
The first move in this diiection was made m 1850, when the Com-
missioners of Police were lequested by the Lord Chamberlain to
report as to the means of egress fiom all the theatres in London
They reported unfavourably of five theatres In 1852, the Lord
Chamberlain, after consulting the official referees undei the building
Act, required from the proprietor of every theatre a certificate as to
the safety of the structure, to be made either by the district surveyor
01 some other competent architect or surveyor In 1853, the Lord
Chambeilam addressed a circular to all the managers, recommending
improved ventilation in their theatres In the licences of 1854-55, a
condition was attached to the grant of every licence making its
validity depend on an observation of the rules as to ventilation,
facility of egress, and other precautions, which the Lord Chamberlain
might think fit to make durmg the cuirency of the licence In the
autumn of 1855, the first annual inspection took place of the whole
of the metropolitan theatres It was made by an officer of the Lord
Chamberlain’s Department, assisted by a surveyor, and the chief points
of investigation were, first means of egress m case of fire, improve-
ment of ventilation, means of extinguishing fire, safe hanging of
chandeliers, and cleanliness of the building

440 A I5TEW HISTOBY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

In the spring of 1856, letters were sent to the managers, pointing
out the defects •which had been observed, enjoining them at once to
remedy the most important Smce 1856, the metiopohtan theatres
have been exammed once every year from roof to basement, and the
inspector reports that veiy great improvement has resulted from the
examination The Lord Chamberlain has further, within the last few
years, extended his inspection to some of the stage arrangements, in
consequence of fatal accidents which occurred to dancers from the
Ignition of their dresses Without relievmg the managers from their
responsibility in these respects, he has enjoined that the footlights
shall at all theatres be protected by wire guards, and that no lights
shall be placed at the wings lowei than four feet from the ground
He has also, without making a positive order, recommended the use
of uninflammable material for women’s dresses on the stage

The returns show that from the beginnmg of 1852 to the end of
1865, 2816 plays were submitted for licence, out of which only 19
were rejected , of those, two were from Scripture subjects, seven were
of the swell-mob and burglary school, and the bulk of the remainder
were French plays of an immoral tendency or English versions of
them In order, however, to make the supervision effective, the play-
bills of all London theatres are sent weekly to the Lord Chamber-
lain’s Office, and examined by the Header of Plays, who also attends
any performance when important alterations have been made in a
piece submitted for licence By a circular to the managers in 1847,
the Lord Chamberlam expressed his disapprobation of the practice
which had existed of admittmg prostitutes into the theaties, as such.
In 1846, he required that the police should be admitted to all London
theatres, and particular tickets were then provided for the purpose
At various times the Lord Chamberlain has prohibited at theatres
certain performances which had become popular from the excitement
of^the risk attendmg them, such as the exhibition of trained wild
beasts, and performances hke those of Blondin He has also dis-
couraged masquerades, which, if they have taken place at any of the
theatres, have been contrary to his express wish In 1846, the Lord
Chamberlam was memoriahsed by the manager of the Surrey Theatre
to Older a discontinuance of the low prices which had been com-
menced by some of the saloon managers, and followed by the smaller
theatres , his lordship, however, declined to interfeie, looking to the
meaning of the law, which, by allowing the additional theatres and
saloons in 1843, had no doubt in view the enlargement of the meane
of entertamment to the poorer classes of London.

APPEiroiX A

m

The practice of introducing pantomime and ballet in the music-
halls commenced some years ago at Canterbury Hall, and was soon
followed by other music-halls The managers of theatres who con-
sidered their licences to be invaded by this innovation, req[uested the
Lord Chamberlain’s interference J but as the law does not mahe him
prosecutor, he prefeired to leave the matter in the hands of those
whose mterests were most concerned The managers of theatres
thereupon took proceedings, and various decisions, chiefly adverse to
the music-halls, were obtamed The late decision, however, m the
Court of Common Pleas, though it went to the question of fact, and
not to the question of law, has practically left the music-hall proprietors
in a position to give ballets with costume and scenic effect, without
any such control or precautions as are exercised in theatres under the
Lord Chamberlain’s authority The length of the litigation was due,
no doubt, to the obscurity of the definition of the word stage-plays ”
m the 6 & 7 Vict c 68, and of music, danemg,” and public
entertainments in the Act 25 Ceo II c 30

It should also be mentioned that, up to 1861, the theatres in the
Lord Chamberlain’s 3 urisdiction were closed for dramatic performances
during Passion Week In consequence, however, of the strong
representations made by the managers of the hardship mflicted upon
them by restrictions which were placed upon no other class in the
community, the limitation clause as to Passion Week was omitted in
the licences issued in 1861, always exceptmg Good Pnday, and the
question of opening in Passion Week is now left to the discretion of
managers Another point to be mentioned is that of late years the
theatres have been used on Sundays for prayers and preaching An
apphcation was made to the Lord Chamberlain to put a stop to this,
but as, in his opmion, no harm could result from it, he declined to
interfere.

Examiner of Plays

The office of reader, or exammer of plays, now so efficiently exer-
cised by Mr E Pigott, dates, as is well known, from the Licensing Act
of 1737, when Mr Chetwynd was appomted, with one Odell as
deputy, George Colman is, perhaps, the most recollected of those who
held the office in past generations, and was long known for Hs
severity in excising “ oaths” which were not of a very profane character-
Mr W. Bodham Donne, who held office m 1866, gave some incidents
of his duties in a pleasant way

YOL, II 2 a

442 A NEW HISTOET OE THE ENGLISH STAGE,

‘^Charles KemUe,” he said, ^‘did duty for a little mote than a year.
He returned to the stage only for twelve nights. I believe there was an
objection raised by Mr Bunn, of the Theatre Eoyal, Drury Lane, to
Mr. Kemble’s appointment, Charles Kemble went abroad very soon
after his appointment, and then his son acted for him for a time, and
then the examinership was conferred on his son John Kemble told
me that his father said he did not think that he read five plays
after he was appointed, but m the latter part of John Kemble holdmg
office I aided him I have held the office from the year 1857 to the
present time As many as 1800 plays or more have passed through
my hands It takes up a good deal of time, certainly , but you get
into the habit of it I can take m every word, and yet read very
quickly Many of the manusciipts are very short Eejected plays
have diminished very much of late years All the excisions which I
made in 1865 would not occupy more than one sheet of paper, not
because I overlooked what was wiong in them, but because they
did not require it. I draw a line in red ink, which means that
those words are to bo omitted. The public salaiy is 320? , from
which I pay income-tax, leaving the net salary about 310?.
There are fees according to the number of acts in the play
That fee never exceeds 2?. 2s It is 2?. 2^ for three acts and
over j under three acts it is 1? 1^ One song is 5^ AB plays
pass through my hands I think I could undertake to say that I
could examine them . . , There is one gentleman who, I under-
stand, introduces extemporary songs every night, such a caso as that
could not come under my jurisdiction, of course My busiest time is
in the month of December, just before Boxmg-night, and m tho
course of that month I generally have five or six regular plays to
exammej but, besides, I always read through about twenty-seven
pantomimes and burlesques at that time of the year In a pantomime
we make them now put down what they do, as weU as what they say
m the introduction Formerly the comic business was not put down ,
but being once called to account for what they did, I said ^ If I am
to be answerable for what you do, I must see what you are going to
do ’ You have that comic business written down -Yes 'Whenl}he
hailequin comes on and dances with the columbine?— Yes. And
where he makes a change, and so on, you have that written down?—
Yes, eveiything.”

APPENDIX B.

Transfer of Patent from Oolonel Brett to Wilks, Edeourt, and Oibier.

(VoL 1 p. 263 )

This Indenture, made 31st day of Mai’ch, in tie seventh year of the
reign of our Sovereign Lady Anne Toy the grace of G-od, etc. anno que
dom. 1708 Bbxtoen Heniy Brett of Albemarle St in the county
of Middlesex, Esq, of his one part, and Eobert Wilis of Sprmg
G-arden, in the said county of Middlesex, Kichaid Estcourt of the
painsb of St Paul, Covent Garden, and Colly Cibber of Spring
Garden aforesaid, m the s'* county of Middlesex, gentlemen, of the
other part W hereas by virtue of one Indenture of Assignment
bearing date Oct 6th, 1707, made between Sm Thos. Skipwith,
Bart , of the one part and said Henry Brett of the oHier part, and of
the right, title, power, interest, and claim therein and hereby
given, tiansferred, and absolutely assigned and set over to the s'*
Henry Brett of and in certam Letters Patent of our late Sovereign
Lord King Charles II made to Sir Thom. Davenant and Chailes
Kilhgrew, Esq, or one or both of them, for the acting of all sorts
of stage-plays, mterludes, operas, and the managmg and ordering
the same as by the said mdenture etc may more fully appear
Whereas witness these presents, and to the end therefore the
several actors now m pay at the Theatre Eoyal in Drury Lane,
and all officers, servants, and agents now actmg by authonty
iiTiflAr the s'* Letters Patent or Patents may be under the direction
of persons capable of the well-ordermg and governing the^premises,
and also for divers other good causes and considerations said

2 a 2

444 A NEW HISTOBT OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

Henry Brett thereunto moving, he the said Heniy Brett hath
made, ordained, substituted, authorised, and appointed, and by these
presents doth make etc , and in his place put the s"^ Robert Wilks,
Richard Estcourt, and Colley Cibber, jointly for him and in his right
and power, to be his de^uhes^ attomms, and manage7S of the said
company of players now acting etc , hereby giving and investing for
his the said Henry Brett^s pait, them the s*' Robert Wilks, Rich,
Estcourt, and Colley Cibber jointly, with power and authority to
direct the acting and peiforming from time to time all such plays, new
or old, as they in their judgment shall thmk most proper and advan-
tageous to the business in general, and also to take duoliargo^
advance f take doioiij encomage, and foifeit all actors, officers, servants,
or agents belonging to the said Theatie Royal as in then judgments
they shall think fit and proper, and also to older the making and
altering such clothes, scenes, properties, and other things as by the
joint opinion of them the s*^ R Wilks, Rd Estcouit, and Colley
Cibber shall be thought most necessary and piudent foi the light,
benefit, property, and true interest of the s^ Patent or Patents, and
thereby the advantage of actois and acting in geiieial, and further
to do or cause to be done any other lawful act that he the s"^
H Brett, etc

And for the avoiding of all disputes oi disagreements which may
possibly happen between the Ro Wilks, Rd Estcourt, and
0 Cibber m the execution of this deputation and trust so as aforesaid
given and reposed in them It is the true meaning and intent of the

H. Brett that no sum or sums of money shall be expended within
the compass of one week exceeding the sum of forty shillings without
the mutual consent and agieement of all three of them the s'^ etc.,
testified in writing under every one of then respective hands, and
such testification to xemam and he in the treasury of the s^ Theatre
Royal

And as touching and concerning all and singular other the
matters and things which shall or may happen concerning the execution
of the same, if any difference of opinion shall arise amongst them the
said etc the same shall be absolutely detoimined by any two of them
agreeing one with the other, and the third person dissenting from
them to be concluded as consenting as much to all intents as if he
were also of the same opinion , Provided always, that it shall be lawful
for him the Heniy Brett at any time to revoke and annihilate
these presents and the powei and authority thereby given, and that

APPENDIX B.

445

from tlie time of such, reyocation these presents shall he yoid and of
non-effect, anything to the contrary above-mentioned notwithstanding
In consideration of which said trust, power, and confidence as substi-
tutes, directors, and managers, so as aforesaid by the H Brett
jointly leposed in the s*^ R Wilks etc, the s'^ E Wilks etc,
for themselves, executors, etc , do jointly and severally covenant,
promise, and agree to and with the H Biett, his hens, etc
that the R Wilks, etc , nor any or either of them, shall not nor
will not at any time hurt or abuse the authority and power so given
to them as aforesaid, but on the contrary shall and will from time to
time and at all times hereafter, to the best of their power and skill,
use all then endeavours to support and maintain the light and property
of the s^ Patent or Patents, and the company now acting under the
same, without leaving any private ends of their own separate from the
mterest thereof, but shall and will, to the best of their several
capacities, do justice and reason to all actors, servants, agents, or other
person or persons concerned in or with the s*^ company, without using
any private favour or enmity to any, and shall and will industiiously
use all and each of then best endeavours to discourage and make
useless all private ends and designs that may anywise tend or here-
after be intended to disturb, alter, or change the present constitution
of this same And fuethermoeb, touchmg and concernmg such part
of this deputation and management in relation to benefit plays, that
for the future the conditions thereof shall be as followeth (viz ), and
to which the s"^ R Wilks, etc do jomtly and severally further
covenant etc with the s'^ H Brett, his heirs, etc That from and
after the 10th day of June next ensuing the date thereof no benefit
day or play whatsoever shall he consented to or agreed hy the
B Wilks, etc without the person who hath the same depositing into
the hands of the treasurer of the said office of the Theatie Royal the
sum of forty j^oicnds, and such actors whose salary do not amount to
four pounds per week (^?^ case such have henefit days) to leave (besides
the said sum of forty pounds as afoiesaid) in the hands of the
treasurer one part in four of the clear profits of such benefit play, and
such actors who have not above fifty shillings pei week, a full third
pait of the clear profits, and those who have not BhoYefo7ty shillings
per week, one half pa'it of such clear profits, the forty poundb as
afoiesaid there to remain in the hands of the treasurer for the
use and henefit of the patent and of the business m general
And moreover the s*^ R. Wilks, etc do also jointly and seveially

446 A mW HISTOEY OF THE ENGLISH STAGE

covenant etc with the H. Brett That no such benefit play shall
be hereafter taken or given to any actor before the last weeL in
February in every year, and not more than one benefit to be
performed in om tveeh from, the said last week in Febiiiary to the
month of May the next following in every year. In witness whereof
the parties, etc

APPEITDIX 0.

Goldsmith^ s borrowings from Fielding and others,

(Vol 11 . p 262 )

It hasj I believe, never been noticed bow mncb the amiable Goldy
has borrowed or conveyed ” fiom his dramatic predecessors. jFoote's
Mr and Mrs. Aircastle and their son Toby certainly supplied some-
thing — ^the name is almost the same — for Mr and Mrs Hardcastle and
Tony The first scenes of then appearance have a strange similarity.

Mrs A Bless me, Mr Aircastle, will you never give over yonr
grumblings 1 I thought I had convinced you that London was the
only spot for people to thrive in

Air .... But you never wiH have patience.

Mrs A, More than ever woman possessed 'Would you, I say, be
contented to spring, grow, and decay in the same country spot, like a
cabbage 1

Air Yes, provided I left behind me some promismg sprouts.

Mrs, A What 1 Have you no ambition 1 Could you be easy to
stand stock still while your neighbours are advancing all round you^
Cottagers are become farmers; farmers, justices, and folks that
travelled barefoot to London roll down agam m their coaches.

And agam

Mrs A. Ho, I suppose Toby (their son) would rather stay at
home and marry Bet Blossom.

448 A ITEW HISTOEY OE THE ENGLISH STAGE.

Goldsmitli has Bet Bouncer And -when Mrs Aircastle says of
her hopeful •

Grace, Mr Aircastle, what grace *

Air Grace'? He has neither grace nor grease. His breastbone
sticks out like a turkey's.

But Lofty's detection is taken almost verbatim from The Wedding
Day^'

Mutahle White's Now I mention White's, I must send an
excuse to my Loid Goodland He mvited me two days ago to dine
with him to-day.

Mil, Two days ago? Why he went into the countiy a week
smce

Milt Nay , then Sir Chailes Wiseall was mistaken, for he dehvered
me the message yesterday, which is a little strange methmks

Mil Ay, faith, it is very strange, for he has been in Scotland this
fortnight,

Mut How?

Mil 'Tis even so, I assure you.

And later on we have Sir George Goose,

INDEX.

A

Abdelazar , or, The Moor’s Revenge,”
pioduotion of, 3 200
Abington, Mrs , account of, ii 284-289 ,
benefit of attended by Dr Johnson,
11 287, friendship of Dr Johnson
for, 11 287, 288 sketch of by
Boaden, ii 298

Acting at the end of the I7ch and
the beginning of the 18th century,
1 290, 291

Actors, not amenable to aiiest, i
175, at the beginning of the 18th
century, quality of the, i 290,
begin to engross a laige shaie of
public attention, ii 108, benefit
societies founded foi, ii 248, dis-
cussion of with managers, i 169-
171 , jealousy between Diuiy Lane
and Lincoln’s Inn Fields, i 208, 209,
prosecuted as vagi ants by High-
more, 11 84, 85 , protection of under
Charles II , i 69 , spelling of names
of, 1 196, 197 , system of douceurs
to, 1 169, war with the, Colley
Cibber’s account of the, i 204-206
Acts of Parliament of Elizabeth, i
36, 37

Addison, Joseph, modesty of with
regard to Cato,” i 339
Admission gratis to theatres, Pepys’
means of gaming, i 91
Admission-money, curious arrange-
ment with regard to the leturn of,
1 91

Advertisements, theatiical, in 1721,
1 406

Amaconi, the scene-painter, ii 67, 69
Anne, Queen of England, death of,
1 399 , orders forbidding people to
go behind the scenes, i 236, 338,

339 , patentees of Drury Lane
Theatre appeal to, i 213 and note ,
proclamation of forbidding the
production of immoral plays, i
236, prosecution against players
for uttering indecent expiessions
directed by, i 230

Arne, Dr , the composer, ii 236

** Aitaxerxes,” composed by Dr Arne,
n 236

Ashley, Sir J , patent granted to, i
53, 54

Ass, prologue delivered by Haynes
mounted on an, i 166, 167

Astley, Philip, licence granted to, u.
399

Aston, Anthony, strange career of, li,
48-50 , curious advertisement of, ii.
50

Audiences, lawless behaviour of, i 220,
221

Authors* fees lu 1719, i 364 , “ three
nights,” how charges were arranged
for, 11 244

Aylifie Street, theatre opened in
(1732), 11 66, 67

B

Baddeley, founder of the Drnry Lane
Twelfth cake, curious will of, u.
346

Baker’s descriptions of various actors,
1 392-395

Ballad on tho ^‘unhappy confiagra
tion” (1672), 1 137“

Baunister, John, fiist appearance of
at the Haymarket, u 418 and note

Barnard, Sir John, introduces into the
Commons a Bill to restrain the
number and abuse of playhouses
(1735), u 100

450

DSfDEX

Barrowby, Dr , acootmt of, n 109
Barry, Mrs , the famous, popularity of,

1 106, first benefit of, i 174,
Oibbei’s estimate of, i 298

, Mis (or Crawford), described

by Lamb, ii 185-187

Spranger,andhis wifOjU 182-187

Beard, managei of Oovent Garden
Theatre, u 236

“Beau Yielding,” quarrel of with
Fullwood the barrister, i 232
“ Beans’s Stratagem,” production of,

1 184

Bedford, Duke of, and Miss Campion,
anecdote of, ii 39, 40

Tayem, the, u 109, 110

Beeston, Ohiistopher, manager of the
Cockpit, 1 11

“Beggar’s Bush,” Pepys sees a per-
formance of (1661), 1 21
“ Beggar’s Opera,” the history of, u
24-29, 33, 34, Dean Swift’s con-
nection with, n 25 , Duchess of
Queensbeiry’s adyocacy of, ii 25-
27, authois of songs in,ii 26, Pope’s
account of the first night of, ii 26,

27 , Pope’s connection with the
songs m, 11 28 , original cast of, u

28, 29 , political allusions in, ii 33 ,
receipts fiom, n 33 and note,
reyival of at Oovent Garden, ii 271

Behn, Mrs Aphra, contributions of to
the indecent drama of the 17th
century, i 188, career of, i. 188,
189, death of (1689), i 189,
epitaph on, i, 189

Bell and Dragon Tavern m Poitugal
Street, ii 6 and note
Bellamy, Miss, quarrel of with Peg
Woffington, 11 200, 202, anecdote
of, 11 224, 225 > sketches by, u 245,
246

Benefit performances, arrangement
about, 1 263

nights, 11 159-161

societies for actors founded

(1765), n 248

Benefits, system of, mauguration of
the (1687), 1 174

- — , dispute as to the date of origin
of, 1 174

Betterton, Thomas, death of (1710)
1 284 , Steele’s estimate of, i 284-
286, Dibdin’s estimate of, i 290,
Cibber’s estimate of, i 292, 293,
comparison between Powell and, i
287

Mrs*, account of, i- 288, 289 ,

Cibber’s estimate of, i, 298, 299

Bills, oto in connection with Drury
Lane management, i 873, 37 1
Blackfriars, James Buibago opens a
theatre m (1570), i 39 , lomon-
strance of the inhabitants of, i 63

Theatre, petition to close,

1 41

Black Jack Tavern, in Glaie Market,

1 207, u 4

“ Blue Beard,” production of at Druiy
Lane (1811), ii 351
Boaden’s descriptions of \arious actors,
u 291-299

Boheme, Davies’s account of, i 896,
397, strange advertisement issued
by (1723), n 1

Booth, Barton, demand of for high
salary, i 93

success of, 1 343, 344, Cib-
ber’s account of the piesenta-
tion of the managei s to, i 343,
344, Ohetwood’s account of, 1 345,
316, 349 , marriage of to a daughter
of Sir W Barkham (1704), i 316 ,
maniage of to Hester Santlow
(1719), 1 348 , 11 47 , Hill’s estimate
of, 1 850, Cibber’s estimate of,

1 330, lu the chaiacter of Othello,
1 361 , obtains a shaie in tho
Druiy Lane patent, i 352, 353,
early difficulties of with his pait-
ners, i 354, serious illness of, ii
67, 58 , death of (1733), ii 58 , Theo
Cibber’s account of, ii 67, 68,
courteous letter of (1732), ii 69
Boswell describes Dr Johnson at a
benefit of Mrs Abington’s, ii 288
Bowman, Mrs , i 287
Bracegirdle, Mrs , and Betterton fined
for using piofauo language on tho
stage, i 192 , description of, il 43,
44 , retirement of from the stage, n
43 , charitable disposition of, ii 44
Brett, Colonel, romantic story of, i
257 , attempt of to amalgamate tho
theatres in Drury Lane and the
Haymarket, i 258 , rivalry between
Bich and, i 261, 262 , devises his
whole authority to Wilks, Bstoourt,
and Cibber, i 262

“ British Enchantress, The,” produc-
tion of at the Haymanket, i 240
Bumper Tavern, the, i 305
Burgess, Captain, committed to prison
on charge of murder and rescued
(1697), 1 230, 231

Burlesques introduced by Killigrew,
i 83

Busybody, The,” success of, i, 384

IITOEX

451

Byron, Lord, prologue written for
Diary Lane Theatre hy, ii 384,
his lecollections of the ‘‘Drury
Lane Committee,” ii 385, 386,
letter of to Thomas Moore, ii 386 ,
espouses the cause of Mis Mardyn,
11 391 , production of his “ Marmo
Fahero” (1821), ii 406

0

“ Castle Spectre, The,” production of
(1797), u 349

Catalan!, engagement Tby Elliston of,
11 412

Catalogue of plays showing the sources
from which the I7th century dra-
matists borrowed, i 219

“ Cataract of the Ganges,” production
of, u 412 and note
Cato,” production of (1712), i 339,
341, Addison attempts to read in the
green -1 oom, i 340, Dean Swiffr at the
rehearsal of, i 341 , Dr Johnson’s
opinion of, 1 31*2

Centime, Susanna, romantic incidents
in the hfe of, i 381, 382 , Hazhtt’s
account of the plays of, i 383, 383 ,
difficulties of concerning the pro-
duction of “ The Busybody,” i 383,
38 ii

Chamberlain, the Lord, order from
assigning sole right of operatic
performances to Haymarket and
dramatic peifoimances to Druiy
Lane and Dorset Gardens (1707), i
258, 259, petition of Drury Lane
actors to (1708), i 259 , order from
that no actor shall leave one theatre
for another without a written dis-
charge, 1 264 , discipline maintained
by during the reign of William III ,
1 264, 265, seals the fate of the
patent theatres, ii 429, 430 , records
of, see Appendii A

“ Change of Crowns, The,” production
of,i 120

Ohaike, Mrs , the story of, ii 170, l7l

Charles I , playhouses during the reign
of, 1 43

Charles II, hypocritical protests of
against immoral plays, i 94, 95 ,
class of plays popular during the
reign of, i 110 , intimacy between
his courtiers and, i 124 , scandalous
conduct of with regard to Sir John
Coventry, i 126, 127, dissolute con-
duct of iidiouled on the stage,
i 128, decree of forbidding visitors

behind the scenes (1675), i 146,
147, death of (1685), i 173 , playe
of Shakespeare almost ignored,
during the reign of, i 173 , number
of anstociatio playwiights during
the reign of, i 187

Chetwood, William, indulgence granted
to (1722), 1 417

Children as actors, royal warrant
granted to bring up (1632), i 43

Children of the Bevels, i 43

“Chinese Festival, The,” not during
the performance of (1755), ii 193,
curious announcement of, ii 195

Churchill, Charles, and his “Bosoiad,”
n 173-'177, verses on Mrs Frances
by, u 187, 188

Cibber, Colley, his estimate of specta-
cular drama, i 146 , joins the Drury
Lane Company (1690), i 169, ac-
count of quarrels of actors, i 204-
206, criticisms of various actors
by, 1 292-301, description of, i
319, 320, hfe and anecdotes of, i
320-327, writes “ On the Character
of Oioeio,” 1 326 , last appearance
on the stage of (17 M), i 326, death
of (1757), 1 327, 11 167 , Steele’s
oiiticism of, 1 328 , m conjunction
with Wilks lemonstrates with the
Loid Chamberlain about Dogget’s
conduct (1713), 1 856, letter of
remonstrance from (1714), i 367,

358 , his account of the lawsuit with
Dogget, 1 358, 359, his account of
his reconciliation with Dogget, i

359, 360, managerial insolence of,
1 362, anecdotes of, i 362-364,
pleads before the Oouit of Chancery,
1 869 , arrest of, i 370 , hoxkeeper
at Drury Laue Theatre offers to go
bail for, 1 370 , silenced by the Lord
Chamberlain, i 406 , autograph
letters of, i 418, 419, his opinion
of pantomimes, i 427 , his explana-
tion ot the success of Lincoln’s Inn
Fields Theatre, i 429, speech of
befoie the Court of Chancery, i
433 , letters of, ii 166, 167

y Theophilus, joins the Drury

Lane Theatre, i 370, his opinion
of pantomimes, i 427, 428 , share of
in Drury Lane Theatre purchased
by Highmore, n 76 , character and
anecdotes of, ii 88—90 , selected by
Fleetwood as stage-manager, ii 92 ,
miserable ending of, n 167-169

“Clandestine Marriage, The,” pro-
duction of at Drury Lane, ii 157

452

INDEX

Clare Market) taverns, tkeatrxcal
brawls m, xi 4

Clarke, J , musioiati, anecdote of, ii
32 , tragic end of, ii 32

, Nat, the original Filch in “The

Beggai’s Opera,” ii 32
Cleiioal dramatists and actors, u 217,
218

“ Cleik of the Acts ” at the Admiralty,
records of the theatres by, i 68
Clive, Katherine, dedication of “The
Intiigumg Chambeimaid” to,ii 83,
84 , Fielding’s admiration of, ii 83,
84 , the case of, ii 136-139 , paient-
age, 11 137, 138 , maiiiage of to G
Clive (1732), 11 139 , quarrel of
with Shuter, n 226 , anecdotes of,
11 284

Cock Tavern, the, i 111
Cockpit Theatre (oi Phoeni'^), i 3,
evil reputation of the, i 5 , managers
and company of the, i 10 , Fiencli
players at the, i 11 , operas at the,

I 48 , wan ant sent to actors fox
oveichaiging at the, i 57

Coleridge, Hartley, i 190
Colliei, Jeremy, famous work of,
entitled, “A Shoit Yiew of the
Piofaneness and Immoiality of the
English Stage,’* i 191 , effect on
the diama of pamphlet of, i 192, 193

, W, makes teims with the

actors, 1 274 , letters and affidavit
of, 1 277-280, takes forcible pos-
session of Drury Lane Theatre, %
276, 277 , quariels of with his com-
pany, 1 309, 311, letter of offer-
mg to hand over the theatie to Wilks
for a consideration, i 314
Oolman, George, pui chases the copy-
right of Foote’s unpublished diamas
for 6001, n 273, tries the expeii-
ment of engaging provincial actors,

II 275 , in possession of the Hay-
market Theatre (1777), ii 278,
death of (1794), ii 343

, the younger, in King’s Bench

Prison (1809), ii 367
Comedians, His Majesty’s Company
of, 1 87, 88 , of the Eoyal Theatre
not amenable to anest, i 175
Comedies, success of English, ii 351-
355

Common Sense newspaper, ii 95
Commonwealth, the, and the stage, i.
13,14

“Confederacy, The,” by Tahbrngge,
production of at the Haymaiket, i
240

Congieve, his defence of the morality
of the stage, i 191

“ Conquest of China by the Taitais,”
production of, i 106
“ Conscious Lovers,” pioduction of
(1721), 1 413

Cooke, Georg© Frederick, account of,
n 365, 36b

“ Coronation, The,” production of
(1723), 11 9 , at Drury Lane (1821),
11 407, 408

“ Country Wife, The,” production of
(1675), 1 182

Court of Chancery, patentees of Drury
Lane Theatre appeal to, i 213
Oovent Gaiden Theatre, Diary Lane
Theatx e f i equently described as up to
1732 , 1 136 and note , new, promoted
by John Rich (1731), ii 65, deooia-
tions of, 11 67 and note, opening
of (1732), 11 70, riots at, ii 188,
192 , nndei the management of
Beard, ii 235 , value of m 1767, n
236 , inteiest is disposed of to
Harris, Powell, and Kemble, ii 236 ,
list of peifoimers at and then
salaries m 1767, n 213 , qumels of
the managoi s at, n 2 15-3 17 , i econ.
cihation oi the paitncrs m 1771,
11 215, Oolmaii disposes of his
shaio in, ii 273 , disputes between
actors and managois at (1800), ii
363, 364 , burned down (1808, 1856),
11 371, 426, foundation-stono laid
by the Pinico Kegoiit foi the new
(1808), 11 372 , opening of tlie new,
11 373 , downfall of, ii 124-426
Coventiy, Sir John, displeases the King,
and IS biutally assaulted, i 120, 127

, Sir W, sends a challenge to

the Duke of Buckingham, i 126,
consigned to the Tower, i 126
Cowley, Abiaham, i 104
Cos scandal, the, ii 410
Craven House, i 4
“ Critic, The,” description of, ii 94
Cromwell, Oliver, i 14, 15

, Riohaid, 1 15

Cross, the prompter, diary of, ii 183
Ciowne, anecdote of, i 173
Customs and costumes, cuiious stage,
11 166, 157

“ Cutter of Coleman Street, The,” by
Abraham Cowley, production of, i
104

D

Davenant, Sir William, patentee of
the Cockpit Theatre, in Druxy Lane,

INDEX

458

1 12 , agreement between Betterton
the actor and, i 27, note , theatre
opened m Salisbury Court by, i 27,
anecdote of, i 60, note, copy of
patent granted to (1662), i 73-77 ;
agieeraent of with his company, i
85, 86 , description of company of,

1 102

Davies, Thomas, his estimate of
various actors, i 389-392
Deaths on the stage, ii 845, and note
‘‘Dei Freischutz,” production of, ii
412

Devil Tavern, the, at Temple Bar, i
235 , 11 7 and note
Devoto, the scene-painter, ii 68, 69
Dibdin, Thomas, opinions of, ii 81, 82 ,
number of dramatic pieces pro-
duced by, 11 349, sketch of the
career of, ii 395-397
Digges, West, ii 216
“Doctor Eaustus,’* production of, i
419-421

Dogget, Thomas, the foundei of the
Thames race, i 210, 837, 860, note ,
anecdote of, i 265 , Aston’s account
of, 1 336, 337, and Steele, i 337,
abdicates (1712), i 355 , 'querulous
letters of to the Loid Chamberlain

I 355, 856, letters of, i 357, insti-
tutes legal proceedings against
Drury Lane management, i 858 ,
defeat of, i 358, 359, death of
(1721), 1 360

Dorset Gardens, opening of a new
theatie in, i 105, theatre razed to
the ground (1709), i 315
“ Douglas,” production of, ii 215, 216 ,
West Digges in, ii 216
Downes, John, the prompter, extiacts
from his notes, sketches, etc , i 99-
107, 311-313, 329

Dowton, the comedian, appearance of,

II 328

Dramatic authors’ prices, ii 23 , pri-
vilege of selhng benefit tickets, ii
34

Dramatic profession, ariogance of the,
1 119

“ Drummer, The,” production of, i 342
Drill y Lane Theatie, site of original,
1 3 , sceneiy first used in, i 20 ,
original lease of the ground, i 81 and
note, 82 , building ot the, i 87 , bill
of the first perfoimance (“ The
Humoious Lieutenant”) at (1663),
1 87 , dosciiption of the intciior of,
1 88, desciipiion of the first per-
formance in 1 89, puces of admis-

sion to, 1 90 , company engaged at,

1 92, 100, 153, account of seveial
plays produced at, i 101 , great fire
at (1672), 1 136, company remove
to Lincoln’s Inn Fields, 1 137, copy
of contract entered into with buildei s
of (1673), 1 138, note , revolts at,

I 168, a real tragedy in, i 197,
improvement in the class of plays
produced at, i 210, the company at
from 1702-3, i 229, company re-
quested to meet at the Old Devil
Tavern, i 235, revolt against the
Hill management at, i 310, 811 ,
Downes, the prompter, at, i 311 ;
company engaged at in 1711, i.
319 , new era of prosperity at, i 319 ;
company engaged at in 1712, i 361 ,
sketch of green -1 oom life at, i 363,
364, licence of, expires with death
of Queen Anne, i 399, licence of
granted to Steele, Wilks, Cibber,
Dogget, and Booth (1714) , i 400 ,
ill-natnred report about, i 405 ,
royal surveyois appointed to ex-
amine, 1 405, favourable repoifc as
to the safety of, i 405, 406 , notice
issued by the managers in connec-
tion with advertisements, i 406,
managers of submit to the Cham-
berlam’s authority, and accept a
new hcence, i 412 , order of man
agers of, that no plays shall be
leceived except by order signed by
them, 1 417, bill of chaiges at,
dated Decembei 12th, 1815, i 418 ,
alarm of fire at, ii 9 , “ Coronation ”
fiist pioduced at, ii 9, leassuiing
manifesto as to the means of extin-
guishing fires at, issued 1723, ii 9,
salaries at, to actors in (1729), ii
55, management of apply for a
renewal of their patent (1732), ii
61 , renewal of patent foi granted,
n 62 and note, Highmore purchases*
a share in, ii 66 , revolt of actors
at, 11 78, 79, opening of, under the
management of Garrick and Lacy,

II 154, iiots at, 11 188-192, in-
troduction of footlights (1765), 11
234, enlargement of in 1763, ii*
234, benefit fund at founded by
Gairick (1766), ii 249, proposal
for the disposal of, in 1767, u
237, situation and dimensions of
the new (1794), ii 339, pioduc-
tion of “Macbeth” at, ii 311;
“ Twelfth cake ” founded by Bad-
deley, u 346 , burned down (1809),

454

11 873, 374; patent foi, dated
1811, 11 376-379 , opening of tho
(1812), 31 880, dcsciiption of tlie
present, ii 383 , ^nold, fiist
manager of, ii 384, Baymond,
fiist stage-manager of, ii 384,
difficulties at, ii 402-404, list of
aotois and actresses at m 1820, ii
405, fiist state visit made to by
George lY in 1821, ii 405 , down-
fall of, 11 426-429

Dryden, John, prologues written by,
1 140, 153 , complaint against, i
153, assaulted in Eose Street, i
151

E

Egleton (commonly called Baron
Egleton), 11 5 and note, 6 and note
- — , Mis , the original Lucy in “The
Beggar’s Opera,” account of, n 81
“ Elenoia,” by Thompson, prosoiibed,
u 105

Elephant on the stage, i 239
Elliston, llobert Wilham, anecdote of,
and Gooigo III, ii 361, becomes
propiietoi of the Olympic Theatie,
11 399 , seem cs lease of Druiy Lane
Theatre (1822), ii 412 , qirnnel
of with Loid William Lennox, ii
413-416, fall of, n 416,417, death
of, 11 416

Elnngton, Ealph, anecdote of, i 428
*‘Empiess of Horooco,” played by
Ellcanah Settle, i 141, a triumph
of spectacle, i 141, 112
“Bmpiess of the Moon’’ produced,

I 423

Estcourt opens the Bumper Tavern in
James’s Street, Oovent Garden, i.
805 , death of, i 306

E

■**Eair Pemtent,” production of, i 176
Fall of Mortimer, The,” ii 77, 80
Farquhar, his comedy “The Beaux’s
Stratagem,” i 184 , character of, i
185, 186 , anecdotes of, i 186, death
of, 1 186 , a had actoi, i 187
Farran, Miss, shetohes of by Colman,
u 275 , German critic’s opimon of,

II 297

Fazio , or, The Italian Wife,” u 421
Female dramatists, bunal of in West-
minster Abbey,] 190 , female parts,
who was thd first actress of, i. 60 ,
Ohailes I grants liberty to women
to peiform, i 61 , female aotois on

the stage, Pepys fiist sees (1661),
1 95

Fielding, Henry, account of tho plays
of, 11 94, 95

Fleet Street, patent granted to
Davenant f oi building a new theatre
in, 1 45

Fleetwood, Ohailos, succeeds High-
moie at Diuiy Lane, ii 87 , Yictor’s
account of, ii 88, as manager of
Drury Lane, ii 92 , fall of, ii 1 13
Footo, Samuel, account of, ii 204-213 ,
accident to, iz 229 , anecdote of, ii
229, 230 , obtains a patent for the
Haymarket Theatre, ii 230 , goes
on the Continent, ii 233 , arrange-
ment of with Colman concerning
the patent, ii 273, anecdotes of, ii
276-279 , death of (1777), ii 278
Footlights, introduction of by Gar-
iick (1765), 11 234
Footmon iiots, i 221
Foieign actoi s, paitiality shown to, u,
105

Foifcune Playhouse, the, i 22

Theatic, built by Alleyn, i 41,

note; buined do\\n (1622), x 43
“Foi us, and foi our Tiagedy,” i
377

Francis, supposed authoi of “ Junius’s
Letters, ” ii 188, conooiued in stage
nots, 11 188-192

French comedians at tho Haymaiket
(1720), 11 99, popular indignation
against, u 103-107

G

Galloiy, tho slnllmg, abolished and
lesfcoied at Co\ent Gaiden, a 311
Gariiok, David, Dibdin’s estimate of,

I 290, comes to town (1738), a
122 and note, appeals in Goodman’s
Fields Theatre (1741), la 122,
performs at Goodman’s Fields
Theatre on Christmas Day (1742),
a 123, careei of, n 122-134, lo-
forms stage declamation, u 124,
126, “fever,” a 127, enteismtoan
engagementwith Fleefewood,ii 128,
quarrels with Maokhn, a 130-133 ;
second season, piofits, salaiies, oic ,

II 134, unpublished loitoi of, la
147, Mrs Oibboi’s letter to, a 147,
14-8, plays produced undoi tho
management of, a 157, 168, 162,
compliment paid to m the House
of Commons (1778), a 280, 281,
veises of, a 282, retirement of
from management, a 283 , remodels

INDEX.

455

Drury Lane Tlieatre, ii 309, 810 ;
death of (1779), 11 319
Gariiok, Mrs , brief sketch of, ii.
311

Gas in theatres, n 386 and note, 424
Gay, John, his letter to Swift, n 34
“ George Barnwell,” production of at
Drury Lane Theatre (1731), ii 52 ,
manuscript of sent to the Queen
by special request, ii 53, lecent
revival of at the Gaiety Theatre, ii
53, note , stiange conversion of a
dishonest appi entice thi ongh seeing,
11 53-56

George I sends Steele a present of
500Z,i 413

George II , visit of to the theatre, ii 10
George III , fiiendly interest in the
theatres taken by, ii 9, fired at
from the pit at Drury Lane Theatre
(1800), 11 359, en 3 oyment of the
theatre, ii 360-362
George IV , first state visit of to Drury
Lane Theatre (1821), ii 405
Gerald Griffin’s “ Gissippus,” ii 365
Gibbon’s Tennis Court, i 26
Gifford purchases a share in Drury
Lane Theatre, ii 76, career of, ii
96-101

Gildon’s account of the flood of
amateur writers, i 214
“Gissippus,” Geiald Griffin’s, produced
aftei the author’s death, ii 355
“ Golden Bump, The,” farce called, ii
95, 96

Goldsmith, Oliver, career of, ii 264-
264, borrowings of fiom Fielding
and others, see Appendix 0
Goodman’s Fields, demoralising effect
of a theatie in, i 53

Theatie, history of, ii 97, 98 ,

petitions to close, ii 101 , shut up,
11 105

“Good naturedMan” produced (1768),
11 254,255

“ Gustavus Vasa,” by Henry Brooke,
proscribed, ii 105

Gwynne, Hell, house of, i 4 , Pepys’
account of in the gieen-room, i 97,
88 , as an actress, i 111 , barmaid
at the Cock Tavern, i 111 , Bishop
Burnet’s and Pepys’ account of, i
112, elopes with Lord Buckhurst,
1 112 , cunous epilogue written by
Dryden for, i 113, attracts the
royal attention, i 113, created
Lady of the Bedchamber to the
Queen, i 114, son created a duke,
r 114, at Court, 1 115, documents

relating to her expenses, i 115,
popularity of, i 116, death of, i.
117 , Madame de Sevigne’s estimate
of, 1 117 '

H

Half-pnces at the theatres, ii 186,
187

Hall, John, the original Lockit in “The
Beggar’s Opera,” ii 6 and note, 7

“ Hamlet,” “ The Old Bachelor ” sub
stituted for, i 209

“ Harlequm Sorcerer,” success of,

I 420

Harper, one of the Bevels Company,

II 86, 86

Harms, sen, enters Oovent Garden
Theatre, u 344 , father and son, ii
366

Hart, Wilham Shakespeare (grand-
nephew of Shakespeai e), as an actor,

1 161, 162, dies (1683), i 162, his
account of his family, i 162, note

Hartley, Mrs , account of, ii 289, 290

Harvey and Lambert, scene painters,
u 67

Haymarket Theatre, new, planned m,

I 237, Italian opeias contem-
plated for, 1 238 , description of, i
238 , opened with a foreign opera
(1706), 1 . 239, “Gamester” pro-
duced at, 1 239 , transferred from
Vanbrugge to Owen S^viny, i 242 ,
order forbidding persons coming be-
hind the scenes at, i 423 , “ Pall of
Mortimer ” announced at, n 77 ;
disgraceful scenes at, 11 80, opening
of “ the new,” n 98 , extraordmary
performance advertised by, ii 154,
155, new, announcement of the
opening of, ii 228 and note , history
of the, 11 228-230 , Oolman in pos-
session of, 11 278

Haynes, Joe, sent abroad by Kilhgiew
as his agent, i 84 , anecdotes of, i
165-168, strange prologue dehvered
by, mounted on an ass, i 166,
167 , epilogue by (1698), i 226

‘‘Hen ess, The,” produced (1669), i.
122

Henderson engaged by Oolman, ii
275 , German critic’s opimon of,

II 296

“HenryVIII ’’pioduced at Drury Lane,
1 371,372

Herbert, Sir H , rights and fees of, i«
66

“High Life Below Stairs” produced
(1769), n 220

456

INDEX.

Higlimore, John, purchases a share in
Drury Lane Theatre, ii 76 , wager
to play Lothario, ii 75, Victor’s
account of,ii 73-76 , etching of Ho-
garth’s, representing a joke played
upon, 11 76 and note, buys Theo
Cibber’s share in Drury Lane
Theatre, n 76 , gives a lease of his
theatre to his own players, ii 77 ,
and Bich challenge the powers of
the Oiown to grant a licence against
a patent, ii 84*, 85 , rum of, 87
Hill, Aaron, actor, author, critic, man-
ager, and playwright, i 308-314,
death of (1760), i 309
Hissing at the theatres, Lord Mans-
field on the law of, n 269
Histona Histrionioa,” i 292 and note
Hoas on the Haymaiket Theatre
played by the Duke of Montague,
11 154, 155

Hogarth’s etching of Highmore, ii 76 ,
ndioule of pantomimes, i 426, 427
Holcioft, Thomas, comedies ivntten
by, 11 352, 353
Holland, the aichitcct, ii 340
Home, parson and playwright, ii 214-

217

“ Honeymoon, The,** production of, ii
354, 355

Horden,the actor, killed in a brawl at
the Bose Tavern, i 230, note
Horses brought on the stage, i 97
Horton, Mrs , takes the place of Mrs.
Oldfield, 11 64

Hughes, author of “The Siege of
Damascus,” i 380 , strange death
of (1719), 1 380

Mrs Margaiet, first officially

recognised actress, i 62
Hull, Thomas, acting manager at
Covent Garden, 11 392

I

** Impertinents, The , oi, The Sullen
Lovers,” production of, i 105
“ Iphigenia,” production of, i 229
Ireland forgeries, the, ii 344
“Irene,” production of, ii 163 and
note

Irish dramatists, ii 219
“Iron Chest, The,” pioduotion of, n.
350

J

James II , i 174

“ Jealous Wife, The,” ii 157, 221, 222
Johnson, Dr , single dramatic effort
of, 11 163 and note, prologue

written for Gaiiiok by, ii 164, 165 ,
friendship of for Mrs Abington, ii
287, 288

Jones, Inigo, and “ The Talc of a Tub,”

I 9

Jordan J , prologue written by to
introduce the first woman who
appeared on the stage, i 61

, Mrs (Dorothy Bland), first

appearance of, ii 320
“Juvenile Phenomenons” on the
stage, 11 366

K

Kean, Edmund, first appearance of at
Diury Lane, ii 387 , career of, ii
387-390 , salary paid to, ii 401 and
note , letters of, ii 408 , quarrel of
with Aldeiman Cox, ii 410, bed-
stead of, curious advertisement
about the, ii 410, note
Keen, the actor, Ohetwood’s account
of, 1 397, 398, epitaph foi, i 398
Kelly, Miss, and Lamb, ii 186
Kemble, Chailcs, Chancery suit insti-
tuted against by Hams, ii 422

, Fanny (Mis Butler), n 425

and note

, John Philip, puioliasos a si\tli

share in Oovent Gaidon Theatio,

II 236, fiist appeal anco of at
Drury Lane (1788), 11 820, reforms
the playbills, ii 842 , duel of with
Aiken, n 343, letters of, ii 357,
358 , Sheridan endeavours to enter
into partnership with, n 368, 359
purchases a shaio m Co vent Gaiden
Theatre, ii 364, letucment from
the stage of, ii 391 , death of
(1823), 11 422

Kilhgrew, Charles, petition to the
Queen (1709), i 272, 273

f Dr Henry, i 17

, Mrs Anne, i 18

, Thomas, i 16-20, scanda-
lous conduct of at the Venetian
Court, 1 17 and note , lapaciousness
of, 1 18-19 , in conjunction with
Davenant determines to obtain
complete monopoly of dramatic
performances, i 22-25, theatre of
opened m Olaie Market (1660), i.
27 , articles entered into by with
Hart and other actors, i 27 and
note , quarrel of with Mastoi of the
Bevels, n 30 , soonros a site for a
new theatie in Diury Lane, a. 72,
competition between Davonant and,
1 . 81 , Sir Bobert Howaxd engaged

INDEX

m

as partner by, i 81, dispute of
■with 3ns company, i 91, proposes
to build a new opeia-liouse m Moor-
fields (1661), 1 96, obtains a ro>al
licence for a ‘^nurseiy for actois,
1 97 , delegates Ins authority to his
actois, 1 135, 139, and note , ap-
pointed Master of the Revels (1G73) ,
1 135, 136, death of, i 151 ; patent
to lesuscitated by Sheridan, xi 331,
332

KiUigrew, Six William, i 18

“ Ring Charles the Fust,” production
of, n 99

King’s Company, pay-sheets of, dated
December 12th and December 26th,
1677,1 U5

Flayers, the, i 10

Kynaston, Edward, quarrel of with
Sir C Sedley, i 121, 122 , seduced
from Killigrew’s company by Dr
Davenant and IVIi Betterton, i 147,
copy of agieement between Hait,
Davenant, Betteiton, and, i. 148,
Cibber’s estimate of, i 294

L

Lacy, a comic aotoi, death of (1681),
1 163 , account of career of, ii
lll‘~151, undertakes management
of Diuiy Lane Theatio, n 115,
agreement of with Ganick, n 150-
154

— , Mr, the late (of the Stiand),
playbills in the possession of, i 389

Lamb, Chailes, his vindication of ibo
indecency of the Restoiatxon plays,
X 181 , his description of actors, u.
299-301 , letter of, li 116, 117

Lambert, George, founder of the Beef-
steak Club, 11 69

Langbaiue’s, Geiaid, account of the
indebtedness of English authors of
the 17th century to foreign sources,
1 218

Lee, Alexander, account of, ii 427, 428

Mrs , of Southwark Fair, petition

of, 11 102

, Nat, the dramatist, death of, i.

220

Leigh, John, Cibber^s estimate of, i
296, 297 , John Chotwoocl’s dosenp-
tion of, 11 1 , humorous song wiitten
by, 11 5^7

Lent, pla> fi prohibited on Sundays and
during, 1 , 40

Lossingham, Mrs, account of, u, 2Dli
Lewis, Matthew Gregoiy, ii. 319

VOL IL

Liberty of thetheaixes, ii i32
Licence to cicct a theatio granted to
Jolly dux mg the loign of Chaiics I ,
1 26

Licenser of pla\s, ab^rJutc power of
nudei Charles II , i 9
** Licensing Act ” passed (1737), i 51,
11 93 , patentees in favoin of, u 10 i
Lighting of the stage, new mode, iu
234

LiHo, author of ‘‘George Barnwell,’*
anecdote of, a 52
Limitations of James I , i i2
Lincoln’s Inn Fields Theatre, descrip-
tion of (1711) 1 387 , playbills, etc
in connection with, i 389 , disturb-
ances at (1720), 11 8, paity of
guards seemed for protection of,
II 11 5 serious riots m (1721), ii 11-
14, sold to the Commissioners of
Stamps for an ofiSicc, n 65 ; cud of
the senes of performances under
the direction of J and 0 Rich at,
11 71

“ London Cuckolds, The,” i 163
“ Love and Bottle,” by Faiqahai, jno-
duction of (1698), i 226
“Love for Lme,” by Congreve, pio-
duced at the now Lincoln’s Inn
Fields Thoatio, i 200
“ Loi 0 in a Tub,” i 10 1
Lyceum Theatre, the piosent, elected
(181C), II 399

Lytton, Bulwei, Lord, bungs the
“pvitent” quest 1011 befoie Parlia-
ment (1832), 11 431

M.

Macaulay, Lord, his view of the
dramatists of the KcHtoiation, x.
181, sagacity of, i. IH7, note, las
pnnaoof Collier, i 191, 192
“Maoboih” alteied by Sn Wdimm
Daionant, i 106, production of by
Gairick, ii 162, production of at
the Haymarkefc (1773). n 261, 265,
pi eduction of at Drury Lane (1791),

II 341

Mackbn, Chailos, joins Ihghmoie’s
company, ii 81 , selected by Fleet-
wood as manage!, 11 92, aaecdotea
related by, n 108, 109, iml mtm
of, 11 111, Gluucluirs \eiseR on, n

III I Reynoldh* estimate of, ii 11 1 ,

fatal quauel ot lulh a bri^ther uetor,
11 lutied of fiu t^uin, ii*

114, 115, fiueedoio of ai tim Ihiiii.
bow Coffee Honne, ii 115, 117, sots
up a school of elocution, u 13 1-136 ,

2 It

458

INDEX.

extraordinary lettei of, II 247, iiots
during the performances of, ii 261-
268 , leappeais on the stage, ii
280 , in “ The Man of the World,

11 320,321

Macieady, William Ohailes, first
appeal ance of (1823), ii 409
^'Maid of Bath,” pioduction of by
Foote, 11 231

“Man of Mode,” production of (1676),

I 187 , the description of, i 188

“ Man of the World, The,” production
of at Oovent Garden (1781), ii 320
Manley, Mrs , the story of, i 244-250
Mansfield, Lord, on the law of hissing,

II 269

Mardyn, Mrs , Lord Byron’s adrocacy
of, 11 391

“Marino Faliero,” production of, n
406

“Mars and Venus,” pioduction of, i
420

Marshall, Mrs Ann, and Mrs Cole-
man, rival claims of, i 61

Mrs Eebecca, gross attack

upon, 1 123

, Mis (the elder), Aubiey de

Veie, Eail of Oxford, attempts to
abduct, 1 121< , Aubiey de Veio goes
through a mock ceremony of max-
riage with, i 125

Masques performed at the Oouit on
Sunday during the reign of OharlesI ,
1 43

Massinger, Philip, death of (1639), i 45
“Master Betty” ciaze (1804), n 366
Maynwanng, Arthur, account of, ii
39-41

Melodrama, popularity of, ii 366
“Merchant of Venice” substituted
for “ The Jew of Venice,” ii 125-127
Middlesex Grand Jury, protest of
agamst the immorality of theatrical
performances, i 231
Miller, Joe, account of, i 806, 307 ,
death of (1736), i 306, 3 est-book
of, published in 1739, i 307
Mills, the actor, i 393
Minor theatres, gradual nse of, ii
398-401

“Miser, The,’^ last piece performed
in Oovent Garden Theatre before
fatal fire (1672), i 136
Mofiat, Grace, propiietress of the Bell
and Dragon, 11 6 and note
Mohun, Major (“Michael Moon”), i
11-13

Molifere, obligations of Britisb. drama-
tists of the l7th century to, i 217

“ Money the Mistress,” pioduction of
(1725), 11 22

Monopolies, theatrical, ii 380

Montague, Duke of, extraordinaiy hoa\
played by, ii 154, 156

Moimtfoit, the actoi, stiange act of
violence offered to, i 193-197 ,
death of (1692), i 196, Cibbei’s
estimate of, i 294

, Mis , Cibber’s estimate of, i 299 ,

anecdotes of, ii 45, 46

, Susanna, draws a prize in the

state lottery, ii 46 , the oiiginal of
“ Black-Eyed Susan,” ii. 47 , ftiend.
ship of Loxd Berkeley foi, n 47 ,
anecdote of performance of Ophelia
by, 11 48

Mundeu, Joseph, appearance of at
Drury Lane (1790), ii 327

Murphy, Arthur, his account of him-
self, ii 177,178

Music-halls placed under the jurisdic-
tion of the Lord Chamberlain (1866),
11 432

“Mustapha,” production of (1606),

1 95

“ My name is Norval,” ii 215

N

Newcastle, Duke of, Loid Chambci-
1am, endeavours to secuie moio
despotic control over thcaties, i
406 , endeavours to persuade Stcclo
to accept a patent of less extent, i
406, lus edict lovoking hccnco
for Dxuiy Lane Theatre, i 407

Nowspapci ciiticisms, i 371, 875

Nokos, Oibboi’s estimate of, i 295,
296

“Non j 111 or,” production of, i 406

Noras, the actor, “ Jubilee Dickoy,”
1 394

Nortbey and Eaymond, law ofiioeis,
the opinion of as to the rights of
the rival claimants (1711), i 275,
376

“Numberer’s Box” at Drury Lane, u
394

0

Odell, the first deputy liconsei of
plays, 11 98, 104, 105

Old theatrical orders and tickets, u

68

Oldfield, Mrs , account of, u 35-13 ,
bufch of (1683), u. 35, death of
(1730), 11 37 , Pope’s spite agamst,
11 . 39, catalogue of effects of, ii.

INDEX.

459

42 , transcription on tomb of in
Westminster Abbey, ii 42
Olympic Theatre, Lord Chamberlain
licenses production of “ Fazio ’’ at,
11 422

Operatic peiformers, Pepys’ opinion
of, 1 83, note

“ Orange Moll,” i 134 and note
Orrery’s, Earl of, play, i 104
“ Othello,” earliest production of,
(1600),! 61

P

Palmer, John, revolts against patent
monopolies, ii 322, proceedings of
and defeat of, ii 322-325 , tragic
end of, 11 345

Pantheon Theatie, ii 339 and note

Pantomime, devised by Hich (lYl'?), i
419 , managers of Drury Lane com-
pelled to introduce, i 420, the
early desciiption of, i 423, 424,
Hogaith’s ridicule of, i 426, 427 ,
Cibbei’s opinion of, i 427, 428 ,
eaily stage accidents in connection
with, 1 428, 429, prices raised at
the theatres for, i 429, Booth’s
opinion of related by Theo Gibber,

I 430

Pans Garden Theatre, fall of a gallery
in, 1 40 , sold, 1 45

Partiality shown to foreign actors, ii
106

‘‘PasquiD,” a satirical farce, produc-
tion of (1736), 11 100

Patent theatres and mmoi theatres,

II 898, fate of sealed duiing the
leign of Lord Oonyngham, Oham-
beilain to George lY , ii 429, 430

Patentees (theatrical), dissensions
between the “Master of the Bevels”
and the, i 59 , contentions among
the rival, i 202, 203, favour the
Licensing Act, ii 104 , appeal of to
the Lord Chamberlain (1818), ii
400, 401

Patents for dramatic performances,
granted to Xilligrew and Davenant,

1 23 and note, growth of and
reasois for, i 31, 33, granted to
the servants of the Earl of Leicester,
1 38 , to Bossiter, i 43 , to King
James’s servants, i 43 , to Dave-
nant for a theatre in Fleet Street,
1 45, to Ashley, i 53, 54, first
granted to Buibage, Shakespeare,
and others (1574), i 55, note,
union of the (1682), i 152, articles
of union of the, i 157-161, copy
of transferring interest in Drury

Lane to Henry Butt, i 252 , to
Steele, i 400—404 , to Foote, ii 230 ,
revolt against the monopoly in, ii
322, complicated questions involved
in the lights of, n 338 , at Diury
Lane (1811), copy of, ii 376-379;
fate of sealed (1831), n 430
“Paul Pry,” production of at the
Haymarket (1825), ii 420
Peake, proprietor of Drury Lane
Theatie and author, ii 393, 394
Peer, William, account of, i 378-379
Pepys, Samuel, i 21, 69-71, 87, 88,
note, 89, 118-120

Performing dogs at Lincoln’s Inn
Fields Theatre (1771), i 421
Petition to close Goodman’s Fields
Theatre, n 101, of Mrs Lee, of
Southwark Fair, n 102
Pinkethman, William, account of, i
302-304, 423

“ Pizarro,” production of, and success
of, 11 349, 350

Plague, the gieat, theatres closed
dniing, 1 11, 97, older forbid-
ding plays on account of (1637),

1 45, revival of the drama after,

1 118

“Plain Dealei, The,” production of

(1677), 1 182

PUyeis, impnsonment of (1634), i 55,
protection of under Elizabeth, i 62
“Players’ Scourge, The” (“Histrio-
mastix ”), publication of (1633), i
44

Playhouses during the reign or
Charles I , i 43 , order to demolish
(1647), 1 45 .

Plays, political, i 104, account of
from 1695-1704, i 205 , large num-
ber of worthless pxoduced at
Drury Lane, i 214, immoial or
iireligioiis, Master of the Revels
ordered not to license, i 226 , pro-
scribed, n 105

Playwrights, amateur, strange method
of dealing with, 1 222, aristocratic,

1 107

Political plays, i 104
Polly Peachum, hst of actresses who
played the part of, ii 31
Poole, John, farces of, u 419, 420
Pope, Alexander, quarrel of w ith 0 ibber,
1 322 and note, 326, 327 , anecdote
of, 1 323 , connection of with “ The
Beggar’s Opera,” n 26-28
Poiter, Mrs , attacked, by a highway-
man, 11 62, estimate of as an
actress, 11 63, death of (1762), ii 63
“ Postboy robbed of his Mail, The,”
1 234

460

INDEX.

Powell, W ) at Drury Lane, ii 235 ;
obtains a share in Oorent Garden
Theatie, n 236, success of, u
238 and note, disputes of with
his partners, u 240-247 , death of
(1769), 11 245

’Prentice not on Shrove Tuesday
(1616-17),! 5,6

Presentments of the Middlesex Grand
Jury, 11 103

Prologue to The Wedding Day,” ii
128-130 , written by Dryden, i 140,
153 , written by Dr Johnson for
Garrick, n 164, 165, written by
Lord Byron for the opening of
Drury Lane Theatre, ii 384
Proscribed plays, ii 105
Provost Marshal, Captain Beltum
appointed (1618), i 45
Piynne, William, publishes the
“Histrio-mastis” (1633), i 44,
publishes his ‘‘Defence of Stage-
Plays” (1649), 1 46-48
“Psyche,” an opeia, production of
(1673), 1 107

Q

Queensberry, Duchess of, connection
of with “ The Beggar’s Opcia,” n
27, 28, visits the groen-ioom at
Oovent Garden Theatre, ii 198, 199
Quick, “the letiiod Diocletian of
Islington,” n 328

Qmn, James, fatal quarrel of, i 283 ,
jealousy of, ii 114, 115 , Ohetwood’s
account of, n 117, 118 , anecdotes
of, 11 . 118-121, 196-199, sketch of,
11 157

B

Baymond, the Drury Lane Theatre
prompter, ii 392, 393
Bebellion, closing of playhouses during
the, 1 13

Bed Bull Theatre, the, i 65
Beddish, Samuel, ounous affidavit of,
11 272

“ Befiitation of the Apology for the
Actors ” (published 1703), i 225
“ Behearsal, The,” production of
(1671), 1 130-134
“ Bejected Addresses,” ii 384
Bestoration, theatrical nots from the
time of the to 1737, i 230 , earliest
plays performed aftoi the, i 20, 21
Bevels Company, the, licensed, ii 77 5
summoned by patentees, li 83,
ordeied to return to Drury Lane, ri*
87 , get possession of Drury Lane
Theatre, n 91

Beynim Beard, cunous letter of, n
110

Bicooboni, criticism of a play by, i
395

Bioh, father and son, i 201, 212, 213,
221, 222, 225, 235, 240, 265, 386,
388, 417, 418, 421, 422, ii 11 ,17, 222
“ Bivals, The,” written and produced
by Davenant, i 103
Bivers, Lady, and Colonel Bictt, i 257,
258

“ Boad to Bum, The,” production of,
11 330

“ Borneo and Juliet,” produced alter-
nately as a tragedy and a comedy,

I 103

Eope-dancers and tumblers, i 227, 228
“Bosoiad, The,” of Churchill, ii 173-
176

“Bosoms Anglicanus” of Downes,
1 292

Bose Tavern, Oovent Gaiden, account
of a brawl in (1696), i 230
Bossitei, patent for a new theatre
without the libeities gi anted to
(1615), 1 43

Boyal pationage, the necessity of in
the 17th centuiy, i 7
“ Boyal Besoliitious,” by Andrew
Marvell, i 128, noto
“ Buie Biiiannia,” n 236
“Bugged and Tough” (son of Bowen,
the actor), anecdote of, ii 15
Byan, the actor, fatal quancl of with
Lieutenant Kelly, i 233 , career of,

II 2 and noto, 3, death of (1765),
11 8, 9

S

Salaries of actois in 1709, i 276-270
Sanders, Mrs , i 62
Sandford, Samuel, account of, i 207 ,
Cibber’s estimate of, i 295
Santlow, Hester, veises of Booth to,
1 347, diversity of opinion with
regard to character of, i 347, 348 ,
marnage of to Booth (1719), i 318 ,
various accounts of, i 318, dedi-
cation of “The History of the
Theahes” to, 1 318
Savage, Biohard, parentage of, ii 16,
17, plays the leading paifc m “Six
Thomas Oveibury,”ii 17, strange
caieer of, ii 17-22, death of
(1743), 11 22

Scandals at the thoairos m the begin-
ning of the 18th centuiy, i 228, 229
Scenic art, development of, i 62-64,
superiority of Italian in the I7th

nSTDEX

461

century, i 64, 65 , lack of propriety
in about 1760, ii 234
Scotch dramatists, u 218, 219
Sedley, Sir Charles, i 92
Sensation drama of the 17th oeuturv,

1 141-144

Sentinels on the stage, i, 879

of Drury Lane
oiT , the, deposed, i 309
Shepherd, James, the architect, u 65
oheridan, account of, ii, 316-319 ,
genres a share in Drury Lane
Theatre (1782), u 820, resusci-
tates the Kilhgrew patent, u 331,
agrees with Liugham for his
shareintj^ Lyceum Theatre, 11 374,
Whitbread, u 8?5
/I Oonqaer,” production

of (1W8), u 260, 261

1 sT’ *^8'“atMti)death of (1666),

Siddons, Mrs Saiah, first appearance
of at Drury Lane (1782), u. 319,
820, account of, u 306-309
‘Siege of Damascus. The,” produc
tion of (1719), 1 880
“ Silenced ’’ actors, petition of to the
Queen, i 273, 274

Sinclair, J, killed in a coffee-shop
brawl by Richard Savage and
Gregory, 11 18

**Sir Thomas Overbury,’* production
of (1723), 11 16, 17 , profits derived
from, n 17

Skipwith, Sir Thomas, connection of
with Mrs Manley, i 244-250, parts
with his property in Drury Lane,
1 250

Smart, Kit, n. 23

Smith, the actor, account of, i 178,
179

Smollett on the actors, ii 148
Soane, Geoige, the story of, ii 356
Soldier dramatists, ii 22
Soldiers forbidden to enter theatres
without paying (1660), i 58, note
Sorcerer, The,” description of, i»
424, 425

Southern, the soldier dramatist, i
364, 365, 11 22, 23
Spanish Friar, The,” account of the
production of, i 179, 180
Spartan Dame, The,” production of
(1719), 1 364, 365, ii 22
Spillor, James, anecdotes of, i 304,
305

■** Stago Mutiny, The,” prmt of, u, 77,
note

Stage, outbuist against the, i. 44,

suppression of the, i 51, soandalotis
customs introduced upon the, i 164,
curious customs on the, i 170, 171 ,
scandals concerning the, i 228,
curious costumes and customs on
the, u 156, 157, extraordinary
nots in connection with the, u.
188-192, novel mode of illumma-
tmg the introduced by Foote (1765),
n 234, riots in connection with
the, n 279 , deaths on the, in 345
and note

Star Chamber, the, and the stage, i.
36

State control, inqmry into the causes
of and necessity for, 1 31,32, Acts
of Parliament of Henry YIII m
connection with, i. 34 , Acts of
Parhament of Queen Mary m con-
nection with, i 35

Stationers* Oonapany, the, grant
hoence to John Oharlwood for sole
right of printing playbills (1587), i.
40

Statute of 1843 for the regulation of
theatres, ii 431

Steele, Richard, kindness of to actors,
1 376, 376 , his comparison of
Cibber and Wilks, i 376 , his
humorous comparison of the actors,
Pinkethman and Bullock, i. 377 >
production of “ Damascus,” written
by (1719), 1 380, patent granted to
for Drury Lane Theatre (1715), i
401-404 , quarrel of with the Lord
Chamberlain, i 407, 408 , patent of
Ignored, i 412, restoration of to
Ins place as controller of Drury
Lane Theatre (1721), i 413 ; Haz-
litt’s opmion of the comedies of, i,
413, 414, violent language of, i.
411, his estimate of his losses m
consequence of the revoking of the
hcenoe, i 412, discontent of his
partners with, i 432 , anecdote
of Addison’s putting an execution
m upon, 1 432 , Cibber’s explana-
tion of the carelessness of, i. 433 ,
formal contract of with Drury Lane
management relative to the disposal
of hisj share, i 434 and note , pro-
test of against the proceedings of
bus partners, i 434, 435 ; letter
of oomplamt of to Booth, i 435,
fresh quarrels of with his partners,
1. 436 , letter of Drury Lane man-
agers to complaining of the great
falhng off in the leceipts, i 436 5
action of the Drury Lane managers

462

INDEX

agamsfc, i 437 , result of the lawsuit
with, 1 437

** Stock ** dramas, ii 24
“Stranger, The,” pioduotion of, ii
349

“ Summex Theatres,” u 398
“ Suspicions Husband, The,” produc-
tion of, hy Garrick, ii 157
Swartz, a German, scored a success at
Lincoln*s Inn Fields Theatre with
performing dogs (1717), i 421
Swift, Dean, connection of with “ The
Beggar’s Opeia,” ii 25
Swiny, Owen, account of, i 242, 243,
275

T

Tailors’ riots (1778), n 279
“ Tartuffe ” adapted by Colley Cibber,
1 406

“ Tatler, The,” newspaper, ridicule of
Eioh in, 1 280, hiimoious desenp-
tion of Drury Lane “properties ” in
the, 1 281

“ Tavern Bilkers, The,” pioduction of
(1702), 1 423

Tempest, The,” paiody of, i 84
“That’s my thundei,” i 323, note
“ Theatre, The,” peiiodioal founded by
Steele, i 411

Theatres built between 1570 and 1600,
1 41, 42 , sketches of old, i 66, 67 ,
attempt to reduce the expenses of,
1 201, return of money at the doors
of, 1 431 and note , liberty of, ii
4i82, regulation of statute of 1843
fox the, 11 . 431

Theatrical, early abuses, i 32, 34,
monopoly provokes opposition, i 28,
29 , shows and then abuses during
the Commonwealth,! 49,50, ward-
robe, custom of augmenting from the
royal wardrobe, 1 94, lessees, hypo-
critical anxiety for stage decoxum
exhibited by, i 110, patent, con-
templation of anew, i 198, patents,
legal opinions with regard to the
authority of the Crown in connection
with (1705), 1 409-411 , “ orders,”
cm ions customs with regard to,

I 431 and note, “orders” and
tickets, spemmeus of, n 68 , taverns,

II 108-110, critics, 11 109, 110,
quarrels (1743), ii 130-133 , funds
set on foot (1766), ii 249, Fund,
General, established (1838), u 249,
250 , playbills reformed by Kemble,
11 342, riots, 11 344, monopoly,
petitions agamsfc, ii 380

“Three Hours attei Maiiiage,” pro-
duction of (1717), I 322

“ Three nights,” authois’, how charges
were arianged for, ii 211

Three Swans, The, m Bisliopsgatc, i
49

“Timour the Tartar,” production of
(1811), 11 351

Tobin, John, author of “The Honey-
moon,” account of, ii 354, 355

Tiapland m “ Love for Love,” anecdote
of, n 50, 61

Trefusis, Joseph, the original Trap-
land, 11 50, 51

Twelfth cake at Drury Lane founded
by Baddeley, ii 34b

U

Dnderhill, Cave, Cibber’s estimate of,
1 297, anecdotes of, i 302, 301,
Steele’s appeal foi, i 303
“ Unhappy hlariiago, The,” by Otway,
1 107

Union of the patents (1682), i 152,
copy of ai tides of, i 151-168
United Company of Comedians at
Druiy Lane, i 260, 261

Y

Yanbiugge, author of “ Eokipso ”
and “journey to London,” i 237,
note , his theatre burned (1789), ii
328, 329

“ Venice Preserved ” produced (1682),
r 171

Yorbruggon, John, description of, ii
45, Mis (&ceMis Mountfort)
Victor, Benjamin, anucs at Dr my
Lane Theatre (1720), i 368, ac-
count of the management of at
DiuiyLanc, 1 368, 309, anecdotes
of, 1 392, 393 , death of (1778), r
393

Victoria, statute passed in the reign
of, 11 431

Villiers, George, Duke of Buckingham,

I 125, 126, 130, 131
“Voitigern,” production of (1796),

II 344

W

Walker, Thomas, the oiigiinl lilac-
heath m “ The Beggai’s Opeia,” z
397, n 29, 30, plays written by,
11 30 , death of, n 30
Walking Society, the, ix 109
Wallace, Obadiali, on the stage, i 176
Walpole, Sir Hoboit, anecdoto of, n*
33

Wap4e«pig playerS) Acts of Parlia-

IITOEX

463

ment for tlie suppiession of, i 7, 8 ;
to be adjudged rogues and vaga-
bonds (Acts of Elizabeth), i 41
Ward, Mrs , description of, ii 216
“ Way of the World, The,” produced.
(1^32), 11 70, 71
Way to Keep Him, The,” n 158
Waylett, Mrs , ii 427
Weaver, author of “ The Tavern
Bilkers,” 1 423

Wedding Day, The,” prologue to,
11 128, 130

Whitbread, Samuel, the brewer, ii 375,
patent to, n 376, 379, suicide of
(1814), 11 384 and note
Whitefriars, licence for a new play-
house in, 1 42

Wild, Jonathan, the original Peachum
in “ The Beggar’s Opera,” ii 33
‘^Wild Oats,” produced at Dmry
Lane, ii 405

Wilkinson, Tate, and John Eich, u.
222, 223

Wilks, Robert, and the players, dis-
agreement between, i 263, and
Powell, quarrel between, i 263,
Steele’s criticism of, i 328 , Ohet-
wood’s account of, i 329-333 ,
Cibbei’s account of, i 333-336 ,
omious temperament of, i 334-

336 , letter of remonstrance to the
Ohambeilain fiom, i 357, Cibber’s
anecdotes of, i 365-368 , death of,
11 66 , generous nature of, ii 69 ,
inscription on the tomb of, ii 60 ,
Victor’s estimate of, n 61

William III , accession of, i 178, order
of to prevent immorality on the
stage (1698), i 225, outlandish
entertainments during the leign of,
1 227, 228

Wit of Charles the Second’s courtiers,
1 132

“ Wit without Money,” production of
at Lincoln’s Inn Fields (1672), i
137

Woffington, Mrs , and Mrs Olive,
green-room quarrel between, i 243,
note, 11 199

Woman-actor, Alexander Goffe, the, x
14

Woman first seen on the stage, i 61

“ Wonder, The,” production of (1714),
1 383

Wren, Sir Christopher, selec’ed to
build a new theatre in Oovent
Garden,! 138

Wycherly, William, account of his
couitship and marriage, i. 183
death of (1715), 1 184

THE END

CHAELIS DIOKElTS AJUD EVAITS, OEXSTAU PALA.CE